


From A Random Playing Card

by Noitratoxin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Danseur Yuuri, Lilia and Yakov are (unofficial) doting grandparents TM, M/M, Mild Language, Phichit curses, Slow Burn, There will be pining, Viktor is VIktor, Yuuri is Lilia's protege, and well timed cockblocking by yours truly, ballet instructor!AU, ballet!au, because sweet Yuuri is oblivious AF, dad viktor, im sorry i dont know how to tag, kid Yuri!AU, more character to be added, slow fkn burn, surprisingly, teaching Yakov's young skaters, the one and only Yuri Plisetsky, the skating world is here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:05:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 59,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noitratoxin/pseuds/Noitratoxin
Summary: In training premier danseur, Katsuki Yuuri, under the guidance of Lilia Baranovskaya was asked to train the new generation of Russian figure skaters in ballet and found himself with a 4 year old Yuri Plisetsky, adopted son of the one Viktor Nikiforov, clinging to his legs demanding he comes home with him.Yuuri wasn’t sure if this was healthy for his sanity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It’s the 7th of January, so Happy Christmas to all of Russia! I’ve been working on this for a while now and by the support of dear [iamalivenow ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalivenow/pseuds/iamalivenow), I have decided to post this as a second round Christmas present. (I know this is posted on the eve, but whatchu gonna do, sue me?) 
> 
> Hope you all have a lovely day and enjoy this slow burn of a journey with two soon to be lovestruck dolts, an adorable child, multiple grandparents and nosey skating uncles.

**Chapter  1**

 

Summary: Fate had an interesting way of putting people together, sometimes she seems to just draw from a random playing card, put it together and call it destiny. Their world stood side by side, and by Fate have they started walking their entwined future. 

 

\------------

Retired six times Grand Prix Final Gold Medalist, Viktor Nikiforov, was extremely confused. Confused and mildly entertained, to be exact. It has been a few months since his official retirement as a professional figure skater and he is now slowly adjusting to life back in Russia with his precious adopted son Yuri Plisetsky. 

Viktor is pleasantly amused at how Yuri embraced teenage angst at the young age of four. It is true that he hasn’t been able to spend much time with his son as much as he wanted when he first adopted Yuri, which is why he decided to retire as soon as it was possible, something he thought Yuri might like. But an excitable young boy was not what greeted him when he first came home and he can feel Yuri slowly avoiding him, the only thing that seemed to make Yuri happy was their bi weekly visit to the ice rink...which also is starting to turn sour ever since Yakov suggested to put Yuri in the ballet class that he agreed to. 

That was last week. 

Viktor looked up at the sound of an opening door down the corridor and waited as the small pattering feet come to the kitchen. Yuri appeared at the entrance with his leopard print bag and a big smile Viktor hasn’t seen for a while. “Good morning  _ moya zvezda _ , would you like some breakfast before we go?” 

“Morning papa! I want the tiger cereal!” Yuri climbed onto the stool at the kitchen island before wiggling his adorable self and settling to his seat. Never one to deny his son the sugar laden cereal, Viktor chuckled at his enthusiasm and poured an amount onto the bowl, passing it over to the boy after he added the milk. 

Even to a blind person, Yuri is obviously in a good mood, which is a direct opposite of his moods when he was first put in the ballet class. Yuri screamed that he didn’t want to do ballet because he  _ just wanted to skate like Papa _ and was in an extremely negative mood that even a promise of a tiger plushie couldn’t even salvage. Something happened between the first two lesson, something so huge that changed Yuri’s entire demeanor. Just what exactly did Lilia’s lesson changed since his time to make Yuri so...happy?  

“So Yuri, are you...excited for today?” 

The child’s spoon pause mid air and he looked at his father, eyebrows raised in suspicion, something he clearly didn’t teach. Yuri nodded his answer and returned to his breakfast, not adding anymore into the conversation. 

“How do you like the class?” 

A noncommittal hum in reply. 

“Would you like to tell me what you learned?” 

“You’ve done it yourself, Papa.” 

“Oh well, yes, but that was ages ago. Why don’t you tell Papa what changed?” 

“No.” 

Sigh. Before Viktor could push for more, a pitter patter of another member of the family moved closer to them, “Makkachin!” 

The brown poodle barked and thumped her tail on the floor as she sat for a treat, eyes focused on the dog treat that Viktor just fetched. Makkachin lapped up the treat in a single bite and turned his attention to his other master, sniffing at legs that hang from the edge of the stool, making the boy laugh. 

Yuri finished his cereal in the next minute and immediately grabbed his bag and ran to the door, yelling at his father to, “Come on!” 

As a father, it is his business to know the things that are affecting his son’s life and this would be the first order of business and find out what exactly made Yuri so happy since the last week. Something that _he_ , the Viktor Nikiforov, failed to do. Has Lilia’s lessons really changed that much? 

\-----------------------------------

Viktor parked his little hatchback at the rink’s carpark and helped Yuri off the car before letting Makkachin out the backseat, they both shivered slightly at the loss of the car’s heater and headed straight into the building with the poodle on their trails. Yuri was about to run to his practice studio before Viktor caught him and kneeled down to his son’s height. “Yuri, what do you say we go grab some pastry at the park after your class?” 

His son tilted his head to the side, “But I have skating practice after ballet.” Turning his sight to the tiled floor, expecting Viktor to change his mind. Viktor raised Yuri’s chin to meet his eyes, “It’s the weekend and I’ll wait till you finish, no matter how long. Okay?” 

The atmosphere brightened spectacularly as the inexperienced father was graced with a precious toothy smile and an excited  _ Okay! _ before he nudged the boy off to his class, not wanting to have Lilia punish his son for tardiness. Viktor was so tempted to sneak a peek at the class, but then he is reminded of a painful wooden stick and colder-than-ice stare of his old instructor and decided against it. Maybe he can go bother Yakov with information and set off to his former coach’s office. 

Makkachin trotted behind him along the corridor and he can just make out the slightest sound of blade against ice, familiar and comforting, even with him being off ice he had no feeling of regret or sadness. Viktor knows he has made the most of his professional career and Yakov is helping his transition into professional coaching after his feedback with Georgi’s performance last season made the older man offer him a co-coaching position. He hasn’t been assigned any student yet, but since he did ask for his workload to be lessened for Yuri’s sake, he wasn’t expecting anything soon. Yuri was his absolute priority now, which reminded him his purpose as he knocked on Yakov’s door. 

“Good morning Yakov~!” 

“For heaven’s sake Vitya, don’t be so loud this early in the morning.” 

“But Yakov, we should all be energetic in the morning!” Makkachin barked her approval and proceeded to greet Yakov with a sloppy kiss. He pushed the dog away gruffly, but not before giving the big old fluff a scratch behind the ears. 

“What are you doing here so early?” 

“Always straight to the point, Yakov! Well, it’s about Yuri you see.” 

“Which?” 

“What?” 

_ What.  _

“Oh right, your little feisty kid. What about him?” 

“I sure hope you’ve got an answer for me, how is his ballet going? He wasn’t so fond of it when I first signed him up on it, but now he seems more interested in it than skating with  _ me _ .” 

“Maybe because  _ you _ decided on the class without asking him, he’s a child, not an idiot Vitya.” 

“Yes, I’ve suffered enough from him annoyed at me for the last week Yakov, but that’s not the point now. He’s now very excited for the class and you know, I wanted to know what made him change his mind.” 

Yakov paused from raising a coffee cup to his lips and eyed his former skater, “...Vitya.” 

“Yes, Yakov?” 

“Are you jealous your son likes ballet?” 

“No! It’s a great training for figure skating, like I did, and Yuri does still want to be a figure skater you know, just like me.” 

“Hmm.” A sip of coffee. 

“So?” 

“Shouldn’t you ask Yuri himself?” 

The dramatic man that he is, Viktor slumped at one end of the sofa, Makkachin close to jump into his laps. “He just wouldn’t tell me!” Whining like the 5 year old that he is. 

Yakov harrumphed and flicked open the day’s newspaper before answering him, “Well his instructor only told me he’s doing well in class, nothing more.” 

“His instructor? That’s a bit cold referring to your ex-wife that way.” 

The beat of silence was broken when the door slammed open and Lilia Baranovskaya entered in a flourish of bright mustard yellow coat, heels clacking harshly on the floor and her voice as commanding as ever, “Yakov, give me the rundown for the day.” 

Viktor sat straight up as Lilia came in the room, the older woman noticing him as well, “Viktor, it’s nice to see you again. How is that son of yours?”

“...Sh-shouldn’t you be training him now?” 

“What?”

“Ballet! Shouldn’t you be training with a class now?” This is getting very confusing, did he miss something important at the start? But if Lilia is here, who’s leading the class then? 

“Have you not told him? You are inefficient as always Yakov.” Lilia tsked at the sputtering coach and faced Viktor, “My protégé is training the class, your son is with him. I do seem to notice he is fond of Yuuri.”  

  
Something seemed to click in Viktor’s mind from earlier, “Wait, there are  _ two  _ Yuri?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri gains himself a fan. Or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have a few more chapters at the ready before updating again, but I couldn't help myself. 
> 
> So here you are, have the second chapter because of my lack of restraint. Sorry it's just a short little thing. 
> 
> Here's a little Russian glossary:  
> moya zvezda - my little star  
> dedushka - grandfather/grandpa

Being the only protégé of Lilia Baranovskaya has its ups and down. He, for one, doesn’t have to worry about accommodation or the lack of comfort, as the former Bolshoi prima prefers to have him close by so they wouldn’t have to waste time traveling for training since her mansion is equipped with all the facility they’d need. And to be honest, there isn’t a single downside to being Lilia’s protégé, until he was asked to be a part time ballet instructor for her ex-husband’s future figure skating generation. Yuuri is used to handling children, what with his childhood friend having triplets that enjoys to torment him whenever they can, so a couple of children shouldn’t be a problem, but 10 of them at the same time proved to be a challenge yet. 

 

Yuuri bent himself in half on the barre to start his stretches before the class starts and held his position for several counts and moved to practice from the first to the fifth position. The freshly waxed floor of the practice studio gleamed the lazy morning sun, ready for the oncoming practice, and Yuuri took in the sight fondly. It is only a his third time teaching the class and Yuuri is confident he will do better, if this is what he needs to repay Lilia for her guidance, then he’ll give his best effort. Not all is bad is this part time activity, all the children are talented, but some more than other and one more memorable. Yuuri remembers the four year old who share his name and seemed to glare at every living and dead thing on his first day, the danseur didn’t think he’d ever be so intimidated by a child. He was expecting Yuri to revolt during the class, but instead he followed every single order and performed very well, deserving of a praise. 

 

As a treat, Yuuri decided to perform a small dance for the first class and he was glad to see the children smile and gasp at awe. He hoped that would motivate them for the next session, and as the children left the studio young Yuri was the only one left. Yuuri approached him with a kind smile, “You did wonderful today Yuri, are you going home soon?” 

 

The young child wrung his hands and muttered something under his breath, Yuuri knelt down to his student’s height. “I’m sorry Yuri, I didn’t catch that.” 

 

“I said y-you dance really pretty.” 

 

Yuuri’s heart melt at the honest and pure compliment and had to stop himself from bringing him into a hug like he would the triplets. “Thank you Yuri, I’m glad you liked it.” The young child frowned at that and Yuuri wondered if he said something wrong. 

 

“Isn’t it weird? Saying your own name like that?”

 

“Oh, but that is your name isn’t it? And I think both our name are beautiful.” 

 

Yuuri grinned at the child’s bright smile as he proceeded to nod vigorously in agreement, “Yeah!  _ Dedushka  _ gave me my name and I love it! Papa also love my name!” 

 

“That’s great Yuri!” Oh, actually yeah it’s starting to be a bit confusing now. It seemed the young boy decided the same thing. “I know, Yuuri can call me Yura! Papa calls me that sometimes but mostly he call me Yuri and  _ moya zvezda _ , so I can let you call me Yura!” His excitement warmed Yuuri and he agreed easily. “Alright then, you are Yura and you can call me Yuuri. Sounds good?” 

 

Yuri gave him a toothy grin and gave him an excited  _ Yeah! _ before he noticed the time, “Oh no, Papa is waiting outside!” Yuuri smiled and helped him gathered his things into a leopard print bag and watched as his student ran out the door with yelled goodbye.

 

Yuri was certainly adorable and Yuuri looked forward to see how his training would help in his skating. The clock chimed at 8 o’clock and Yuuri finished his stretching, there was a tell-tale rise in volume as his students approached the studio. The door creaked open and the class soon began, enthusiasm in the atmosphere. Today is going to be another day. 

 

\-------------------------

 

After Lilia cleared his misunderstanding at Yakov’s office, she led him to the ballet studio at the rink and pointed to the Japanese man in the middle of the room from the small glass opening. “That is Katsuki Yuuri, two times gold medalist at the USAIBC. A talent the Bolshoi cannot ignore and he is my current protégé, he serves well as basic ballet instructor.” 

 

_ Oh dear. Oh dear me. _

 

Viktor allowed himself to enjoy the view in front of him, of a lite figure clad in tight leotards with equally tight fitting shirt that compliments the Japanese’s wonderful posture. He moves easily with the young bodies in the classroom and moved from one position to another before pausing to correct one or two student with those lovely hands attached to the lovely body. 

 

The Russian skater had to take a deep breath as he finally had a clear view of the other man’s face, a sweet face adorned with blue glasses and a beautiful sweet brown eyes behind it. His lips a light pink and possibly  _ very soft. _ God is real and his creation is making him tear up. Viktor raised a finger to his lips, hoping to cover his momentary trance as he stared at Lilia’s protégé. He spotted his little Yuri one end of the practice barre and focused on his concentrating face instead. Oh, his little star is simply so  _ precious _ . 

 

Viktor cleared his throat, “He does seem like a good teacher, Yuri seems to be very excited for ballet classes now compared to before.” 

 

“Yes, Yuuri has always been good with children.” 

 

“Hmm.” 

 

“Do I have to warn you off my protégé, Viktor?” Lilia didn’t bat an eyelid as Viktor turned to face her sharply, a slight shock marked his expression. 

 

“Lilia, my beloved, how can you say that! I am very much dedicated to my Yuri at the moment thank you very much.” 

 

“Well, do as you like. That child is more than capable to take care of himself.” 

 

“Lilia!” 

 

“Shush, don’t start to disturb the lesson. Find something useful to do and don’t you dare loiter around here.”

  
Viktor gave the older woman a cheeky salute as she turned to leave and he reluctantly left the studio as well, but not before stealthily taking some pictures of Yuri for himself. He suppose he can help Yakov prepare for the next skating season, or maybe bring Makkachin out for a quick walk. Either way, he’s got time before Yuri finishes his lessons for the day and to get the vision of Lilia’s protégé out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all your support and comments, hopefully you'll stick with these characters and enjoy the ride! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are welcome <3 
> 
> P.S: I challenged myself to insert the “I saw a man so beautiful I started crying” meme with pining Viktor. I believe I nailed it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is a low key (hah) jealous parent and Yuuri needs to get used to wearing goddamn contacts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating because I love y'all and I finished another chapter.

His plan didn’t work out so well. 

 

Viktor returned to Yakov’s office and when it was clear Viktor had nothing better to do than waiting for his son, the old coach put him to work. It was half way through the hour when Viktor’s attention travels from his work to the beautiful danseur, Katsuki Yuuri, hell even his name came out naturally in his mind. Being Lilia’s protégé means that he has a storage full of talent and dedication, because having trained with Lilia before, he knows that nothing less than full dedication and hard work could please the ex prima - and perhaps a little dose of stubbornness. 

 

Still, he was curious how Yuuri changed his Yuri. Viktor knows he hasn’t been the best father, but he has his good moments where he was sure he had made his son happy - especially when he brought him out to the rink and skated just for Yuri. It was a year ago, but Viktor remembered the night vividly when he sneaked Yuri into the rink one night before he left for the Grand Prix qualification. He had Yuri skating slowly on the ice with him, when the young boy had tugged on his hand demanding his full attention, his face was flushed when Viktor squat down to meet his eyes. In his little shy voice, which he only shows to Viktor, Yuri announced that he wants to be a professional figure skater _just like Papa_ _and I will make you very proud._

 

It was a year ago and while Viktor knows Yuri’s aspiration remained the same, there seemed to be a growing gap between them and in comes a ballet instructor that seems to bring life back into Yuri’s eyes? Viktor was impressed and curious. 

 

He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous. 

 

Makkachin whined and laid her head on her master’s lap, acutely aware of his emotional turmoil. Viktor laughed and gave her an affectionate cuddle from his chair, whispering praises to his trusty companion. Yakov passed a tumbler of coffee to to him as he returned from fetching his second coffee for the day, the gruff man settled into his seat with a sigh, “So what did you think of Yuuri?” 

 

“Which one?” Viktor laughed at the coincidence, who would have thought that two amazing people would share the same name. 

 

“Lilia’s Yuuri, he’s been teaching since the start of the class and received good feedbacks from parents and student. But what do you think?” 

 

_ He’s beautiful.  _

 

“I don’t think I would be a good judge, I’m a figure skater not a danseur after all.” 

 

“I suppose.” 

 

The room returned to silence and before long, a notification appeared on Viktor’s phone screen, marking the end of Yuri’s ballet class. “I’ll go fetch Yuri for a quick lunch, do you want anything Yakov?” As the older man replied with a no, Viktor rose from his seat along with Makkachin and made his way back to the practice studio to surprise Yuri - maybe he’ll even meet Katsuki Yuuri properly this time. 

 

As he got closer, he could see student leaving the studio with a cheery wave to the room and a bright voice returning their goodbyes. Viktor expected to see Yuri leaving the room soon, but after a minute and two he still hasn’t emerged from the doors. He approached the doors to find his son when the first notes of music played and Katsuki Yuuri was dancing across the room. Viktor watched, enamored as the man moved easily from one position to another, transitioning smoothly from a pirouette to an arabesque and after a quick glissade the man took a few running steps and from its momentum ascended into a grand jeté. His breath was taken away and Viktor forgot about his current realm of existence, his surrounding were nothing but the soft and bright piano tunes in a flower field and the man was a fey welcoming the spring. 

 

When the music dropped and he was returned to plain view of the studio, his son’s excited chatter and applause pulled him back to reality, reminding him of his original purpose. Yuuri settled down in front of his son and Yuri moved his hands about wildly, possibly talking about the show just now. They laughed together, a beautiful sound that resonated deep within Viktor, and that was what pushed Viktor to enter the room.

 

Except, he was beaten to it by his own dog. 

 

Makkachin rushed into the room in a flurry of brown and launched herself at Yuuri who fell hard against the waxed floor with a loud yelp. The moment in the vacant room was instantly broken, but it was picked up again when Yuri noticed him by the door and climbed to his feet, running to him with arms stretched out in a wordless demand, “ _ Papa! _ Help Yuuri!” he giggled. Viktor automatically opened his arms and lifted Yuri to set him on his hips, trying to process the situation. 

 

The rogue poodle was attacking the danseur with a barrage of sloppy kisses, her tail wagging till it was a blur. Yuuri, fortunately and despite being pinned down under the dog,  laughed as he slowly pushed the poodle away. Viktor wanted to just facepalm against the waxed floor, and called for his errant pup, “Makkachin, heel! Leave the poor man alone!” 

 

At the sound of her master’s voice, Makkachin naughtily gave Yuuri another lick to the face before trotting to Viktor side wide a loud bark of acknowledgement.  _ Someone isn’t going to get extra treats today _ , he thought. 

 

Viktor readjusted Yuri on his hips before fussing over the other man, “Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you alright? Did she hurt you somewhere? Anywhere? Here, here take my hand.” 

 

“Oh thank you, I am very fine so you don’t have to worry.” Yuuri laughed as he accepts the extended blurred appendage in front of him and brushed off his pants. He lifted his shoulder in a rubbing movement to wipe off some dog slobber from his cheeks before looking at him. 

 

_ Oh dear. _

 

Big brown eyes, warm and inviting, met his and Viktor would fight anyone that said brown eyes were boring and dull. He will fight every single one of them. Realising he still held the hand of the danseur with lovely eyes, he changed it into a handshake, “It’s nice to finally meet my darling Yuri’s teacher, I’m sorry my dog made a mess out of you though.”  _ A hot mess. _

 

Yuri pouted slightly as pink colored his cheeks and pushed his face to the crook of Viktor’s neck, peeking out just slightly. 

 

“Likewise Mr. Plisetsky! Yuri is an amazing student, I hope you know how wonderfully talented he is.” 

 

Viktor stood stunned, of course he couldn’t expect everyone in the world to know him but since Katsuki Yuuri is Lilia’s protégé, Viktor thought he would recognize him. His eyes crinkle in amusement. 

 

“It’s Nikiforov actually, Viktor Nikiforov. Yuri here is adopted you see, and he prefers his last name so who am I to deny him, right?” He said after the handshake. 

 

A beat of silence. 

 

“What?” 

 

“What?”

 

“ _ What?! _ ” 

  
Viktor and Yuri watched in equal amusement as Yuuri narrowed his eyes at Viktor, before widening and turned into 3 shades of purple, 3 shades of green, and a massive red flush as the danseur’s center of gravity left him and he fell the second time to the hard floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, guess who bought the anime soundtrack. 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://noitratoxin.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri finds fault in his father and Lilia somewhat regrets introducing Viktor to her protégé, just...somewhat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people have asked me how bad Yuuri’s eyesight were if he couldn’t recognise Viktor, the answer is: Very BadTM from my own experience. He usually wears his glasses most the time but took it off for the short performance he did for Yuri which was his... downfall ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). 
> 
> I also forgot to mention this is unbeta’d, so please be kind to any typo and mistake <3

When the danseur began to tilt, Viktor lunged for the man in reflex with no avail and Yuri left his side to stand by his ballet instructor, worry in his face. Makkachin whined at the fallen danseur as Viktor tries to assess just what had happened.

 

“Yuri could you be a dear and find Yakov or Lilia please? You know how to get to his office, don’t you?”

 

Yuri replied with furious nods before speeding out the room, Makkachin trailing behind the younger boy. Viktor could remember many things, many things that relates to figure skating and Yuri and how to deal with injuries - it came together as Yuri was prone to small injuries with the way he plays - but he could also forget many thing, now including how to deal with a fainted person whose facial color morphed faster than life. Viktor raised his head to lay on his lap as he tapped the man’s cheeks, trying to rouse him, “Come on, come on. Can you hear me, Yuuri? Come on, wake up please”.

 

It took a while, but Yuuri’s eyelids flickered, and it took a few more encouragement for the man to actually slowly open his eyes. He groaned and blinked once, twice, to focus his eyes before remembering he couldn’t, bad eyesight and all, but it clearly didn't stop him to meet the cerulean blue of the one hovering above him. _Viktor Nikiforov’s_ eyes. The danseur’s cheeks flushed bright red and _fortunately_ before he could react in a monumentally embarrassing way there were fast approaching footsteps, then his instructor came into the studio with the force behind her.

 

“Yuuri, what happened here!”

 

Yuuri shot straight up at the woman’s voice with a loud _I’m sorry!_ before staggering in his steps, strong hands steadies him and pulled him back to rest on a solid wall. _Wait, no._ Yuuri looked back to find the same pair of eyes that met his looking at him, Viktor had a warm and relieved smile on his face and his mouth opened to ask something but was interrupted by a small ball of energy smacking straight into Yuuri’s abdomen.

 

“Yuuri! Yuuri! Yuuri!” The child cried into his mid, eyes rimmed red and Yuuri felt guilty that he made Yuri worry so much. He knelt down to Yuri’s level and placed a calming hand on his head, “I’m sorry I made you worry Yura, I promise I didn’t mean to. Can you forgive me?”

 

Yuri sniffed pitifully, nodding, and curled a possessive arm around Yuuri’s neck.

 

“So what happened, Yuuri. It’s not like you to worry me like this.” The former prima eyed her protégé with critical eyes, looking for any injury, “it’s not _that_ again is it?”

“Oh no no no no no no, it’s nothing like that! I- uh, I just uh- I was surprised?” Lilia sighed as Yuuri sheepishly rubbed his neck, a child still attached to him.

 

“Surprised of what?” She asked, though she has a feeling there might be something to do with the champion skater who is staring at the two Yuri’s interaction. Before Lilia had Yuuri confirm her suspicion, Yuri piped up angrily.

 

“It’s Papa’s fault! Papa made Yuuri faint because Papa is bad!”

 

“Um, no Yura, I don’t think that-”

 

“Continue Yuri.” Lilia prompted, the boy nodded.

 

“Papa made Yuuri think that Papa wasn’t Papa and made Yuuri turn _maaany_ colors and- and then Yuuri fainted!” The fast and jumbled explanation made Yuuri color like a boiled crab and Viktor was tempted to run when Lilia gave him a pointed look.

 

“No no no no no, I wasn’t wearing my glasses and I- uh, didn’t recognise Mr. Nikiforov at first and mistook him as a Mr. Plisetsky. It wasn’t his fault Lilia-sen-” The danseur was cut off when Lilia turned to give him the look, he corrected himself to “Lilia” after that.

 

Yuri, the stubborn child that he his refused believe otherwise. “No! It’s not Yuuri’s fault! It’s Papa’s fault!”

 

“Enough _malchik_ !” The stern order made Yuri stiffen, his eyes misting up at the angry tone. The two men (or, as Lilia would argue, children) froze but before anything else blew up to massive proportions, the retired prima kneeled down to pull Yuri from her student to face her. “If your father apologizes to Yuuri, would that please you, _zvezda moya_?”

 

The boy frowned for a minute, then nodded, looking at his father expectantly.

 

Viktor, afraid of further angering his son, hid his mirth and nodded solemnly. “Of course _lapochka,_ ” he faced Yuuri and took his hand firmly between his, bringing it alarmingly close to his lips, “I am so sorry for surprising you, Yuuri. Would you ever _ever_ forgive me?”

Being a seasoned danseur, he thought he would never be under more duress than being on the stage under thousands pairs of eyes, today apparently, proved him wrong. With an angelic child with heavenly eyes that returned to hug his legs, his six consecutive gold champion father and Yuuri’s own instructor staring at him, it took a lot of control to not just topple over again. With his cheeks flaming up again, he could only stutter his reply, “Yes, yes, of course I forgive you! Don’t worry too much about it Mr. Nikiforov.”

 

“Oh Yuuri, don’t call me that! Now that we’re all forgiven, call me Viktor!”

 

“Y-yes, Viktor. If you say so.”  He muttered the end to himself as his flush deepened.

 

“There Yuri, your father apologized and everything is settled. Now go on your break before it ends, Viktor take your son!” The ex prima’s orders were absolute and the former skater knelt down to pry his son away from the Japanese man. “Lilia’s right _zvezda_ _moya_ , let’s get you some lunch before skating, _da_?”

 

“But I want to stay with Yuuri, I want to eat with Yuuri!”

 

The danseur could see the soft and pleading eye from Viktor and there was only one way he knows to placate the boy, “Yura, how about this, if you follow your papa now, I will make us lunch next weekend and have it together. What do you say?”

 

Yuuri didn’t understand why both the child _and_ his father light up at the suggestion. But his offer was accepted in a snap and Yuri pulled his hand up for a pinky promise before giving him a little smack on the cheek and ran out the studio with Makkachin. Yuuri smiled at the boy’s childish enthusiasm and found Viktor staring at him, Lilia too actually.

 

“If you don’t mind Yuuri, you can- uh… have lunch with us now?” Viktor offered.

 

“That’s a kind offer, but I’m afraid I have to leave soon. There’s training at the Bolshoi today.” Yuuri never regretted agreeing to training before, but he’s now missed the chance to have lunch with _his idol_ , ridiculous.

 

“Well, there’s always next week. I’ll see you soon Yuuri!” And he left at the urge of his hungry son, not before giving Yuuri a long look. Which confused him to no end.

 

He jumped when Lilia’s stern voice called his name, forgetting the woman was still in the room with him. “Yes, Lilia?”

 

“I didn’t hear about this training. Who told you to come in?” Her displease showed from the stiffening lips and frown.

 

“Ah, Ivan wanted me to come in to practice the summer ensemble till the afternoon. He wanted to make sure I practice enough.”

 

 _To make sure I don’t slack off by teaching children,_ was the unspoken part and Lilia knew by her more prominent frown.

 

“Yuuri, you _always_ practice enough.”

 

 _Too much even_.

 

“Ah, but maybe not enough if Ivan called me in.” Yuuri never meant to put himself down, but he also couldn’t stop his embarrassment as he stared at the floor. The ex prima’s call made him straighten up in a second.

 

“I will speak to Ivan about this, he has no right to call you in as he pleases, you are _my_ protégé not his. You will not over work yourself or I will put a ban on dancing and even teaching.” Yuuri stared, eyes wide at her whose stare softened a tiny margin.

 

“Get yourself some food and be on your way. I will not have a repeat of three months ago, understood?”

 

That has him scrambling to answer her and rushed to pack up the room before heading to change. He remembered to give her a bow before leaving the room and left Lilia in the now vacant studio.

  
She had many things to think about, but she can’t believe she is already regretting introducing Yuuri to Viktor after just _one_ meeting. But never mind that, she had a colleague to chew out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might need to add some things from the summary happens later? Yuri, my dearest boy, needs to bide his timing for maximum manipulation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor can’t stop thinking of legs in leotards, Yuri is suspicious of his father, and the holy prince of Thailand appears. Not necessarily in that order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am beyond grateful for all the support you've given me from kudos to comments, and pardon me if I wasn't able to answer the last chapter's comments (will work on it soon!). So allow me to thank you with this update <3
> 
> I am setting this after the skating season is over and Viktor won his last GPF gold, so it should be around mid year? I know little to nothing about the weather in Russia, so I’m taking a very wild guess.

Ballet has been Yuuri’s entire world since he was a tiny little thing, he has learned ballet steps before he had understood how to walk and did twirls before he learned to run. Although his life started with ballet, it wasn’t the only art he performed, from the influence of his best friend Yuuko and Takeshi by extension, Yuuri took up skating like fish to water. Yuuri embraced the ice as he did ballet and was welcomed with open arms, Hasetsu’s own ice rink was open to him like a home and skating became an important part of his life - it became the second portal for him to express himself. Because skating introduced Viktor Nikiforov to his life, because skating brought a bigger challenge to his life, because skating brought many precious friends to his life. One of those friends is being a right ass at the moment. 

 

“You  _ fainted _  in front of Viktor Nikiforov?!” 

 

“ _ Phichit  _ please, not so loud. I don’t want to be reminded of it again.” He groaned into his palm, one hand clutching the phone to his ear. 

 

“But Yuuri, you finally met the idol of your life you should be celebrating!” 

 

“And I fainted in front of him and I- I oh god the stuttering! Oh my gosh I am  _ sooooo _ embarassed.” 

 

His friend laughed at the other end of the line, the smooth caress of blade on ice in the background of the Thai skaters cheery tone, “I thought you said you didn’t want to be reminded, Yuuri.” 

 

“Shut up. Don’t make me go there and kidnap your hamsters.” 

 

A loud dramatic gasp, “Yuuri! You wouldn’t dare!” 

 

No, he wouldn’t. He owed an unlimited supplies of seeds to Phichit’s hamsters for being 85% of his best friend’s impulse control. Didn’t stop Yuuri from using it to his advantage though. “So why don’t we talk about something else?” 

 

“Alright fine,” the danseur ignored the under the breath  _ meanie _ , “what about your 4 year old fanboy then? You know, the son of the one Viktor Nikiforov?” Yuuri thinks himself more mature to call Phichit a meanie back at him. 

 

“Yuri’s great, he might still be really young, but he has dedication and talent. I hope what I teach him now is useful for him. He said he wanted to be a figure skater you know? He is the sweetest little thing Phichit, if only you can meet him yourself I’m sure you’ll love Yuri.” Yuuri leaned back to rest on the small sofa provided in his room and took a sip of tea, “He’s also a feisty little thing, you should have seen him in the first class, Yuri was glaring at everything that moved.” 

 

Phichit laughed at Yuuri’s obvious adoration to his student, “Yuuri, as much as I know you want to gush further about your adorable fan, can we find a way to call him other that Yuri?” 

 

“But it’s his name?”  

 

“Yes, to be exact, it’s both your names.” Yuuri chuckled embarrassedly and Phichit had a struck of idea, “I know, since you’re older you can be Yuuri and little Yuri will be Yurio!” 

 

“Phichit, Yuri- I mean, Yurio has an  _ official _ nickname and it’s Yura. We can call him that instead.” 

 

“Nope!” Popping the p, Phichit skated slowly to the rink’s wall to take a swig of water before waving to his coach, he raised his palm to ask for 5 more minutes before the training continues, “I like my nickname better, Yurio is a much cuter name!” 

 

“Yes but-” 

 

“It must be late for you there Yuuri, I’ll talk to you again. Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite and say hello to Yurio for me!” The line cut off before Yuuri could add a word in and he sighed at his friend’s antics. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and decided 11pm was a good time to end the day, tomorrow he’ll have to face Lilia’s gruelling schedule and he prayed for the best. His dreams that night as he tucked himself comfortably into the comforter were filled with bright blue eyes that shone as bright as its owner smile. 

 

It was a great dream. 

 

\------------------------------------------------

 

The afternoon after Yuri’s skating class had ended went well (- as well as it could be), they went to the park as promised and stuffed sweet pastry into face - well, Yuri did, while his father took countless photos of his  _ adorable _ son - and took their time strolling the greens of the area, Makkachin rolling happily on the generous spread of grass. 

 

Makkachin had bounded towards an empty bench and Viktor took it as a cue for a short rest, Yuri took a seat with much difficulty and only his stare stopped Viktor from helping him up. Eventually, Yuri got on the bench and sighed in relief, only to stare (or glare) at Viktor further. 

 

“Yuri, is something the matter? You have a nasty frown on your face.” he asked and smoothed the child’s frown with his hand. Yuri shook his head, but allowed Viktor’s hand to stay as if slowly judging whether or not it is an annoyance yet and muttered under his breath. 

 

“You’ll have to speak up  _ moya zvezda _ , I can’t hear you.” 

 

“Does Papa hate Yuuri? Is Papa not happy with Yuuri? Is that why Yuuri fainted?” 

 

Viktor blinked at Yuri’s questions, and realised the incident from this morning may not be forgotten that easily. “Of course not Yuratchka! Why would I hate your teacher? He seems like a very nice person and I am sorry he fainted. It was all just a tiny misunderstanding.” His son narrowed his eyes at him.

 

_ I did not teach him that _ , he thought. 

 

“But you kept staring at Yuuri and Yuuri was very red because Papa keep staring! I don’t want Yuuri to faint again so Papa should stop staring.  _ Dedushka  _ said it’s not polite.” Viktor choked on air and tried to hide his laughter as the child folded his arms and huffed, his precious Yuri is very protective of the danseur it seems and again he wonders what magic mystery did that man do to make his son adore him so much. 

 

“Yuratchka, you’re so adorable! Your Papa is so jealous, you sound like you like Yuuri better than Papa,  _ da _ ?” The silence that followed unnerved Viktor slightly. 

 

Then the four year old gasp loudly with a sudden realization. 

 

“Papa is trying to take Yuuri away!” 

 

“What?” 

 

_ What. _

 

“I’ve seen it before!  _ Babushka  _ showed it to me on TV, the jealous one always tries to take things away from people and Papa is jealous, Papa wants to take things away from Yuri!” Viktor had to resist the temptation of smacking his head on a tree, he knew his mother’s TV preference would be the death of him. Makkachin, who sensed tension rising in the air, barked at Yuri softly and placed his head on the child’s lap while looking at his master to  _ do something _ . 

 

Yuri was pouting and his face was red in many emotions, so Viktor sighed and knelt in front where Yuri sat. “Yuri, I’m sorry I was jealous but I promise I’m not going to take Yuuri away from you. You like him so much, of course Papa would let you have him.” 

 

The child glared at him, “Really? Promise?” 

 

“Yes,  _ moya zvezda _ . I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

 

It took a full minute for Yuri to accept his answer with a small nod, the former skater smiled and brought his son to his arms, “You have to know Yuratchka, not all jealousy is a bad thing, sometime it just means you love something very much. But you have to learn to not let it control you, so it doesn’t hurt the one you love.” 

 

Yuri tilted his head to the side, resting in between the crook of Viktor’s neck. “Does that mean Papa love Yuri?” Confusion clear in his voice. Viktor felt his heart melt,  _ of course he did, of course he loved his child. _

 

“Of course sweetheart, I love you so much that’s why even though Papa is jealous, Papa won’t take your teacher from you because you deserve the best. Okay?” 

  
“Un, okay.” Yuri answered in a small voice, cuddling closer to his father. Knowing the fatigue from the practices must have gotten to Yuri, Viktor lifted him up in his arms and began his walk to the car to drive them home. Makkachin trailed behind her two masters with a big doggy smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter pulled at my teeth, but it’s out of the way. More action next chapter (hopefully), see you lovelies next time! 
> 
> I hope y'all don't think I have forgotten about dear Ivan, because keep in mind, he might have a role to play in the future.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning jitters as the promised weekend arrives. Viktor ascends to heaven twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost at the 1K kudos mark??? Holy Shit??? When did this happen??? 
> 
> I love y'all.

Yuuri woke as early as 5am to prepare for the lunch he promised Yuri. He fried the  _ tamagoyaki  _ and the octopus shaped sausages, shaped the rice balls into small bite sizes, stir fried the vegetables and placed it all neatly into a portable bento box. Multiple bento boxes. He added an extra protein for the adult lunch he packed for himself, Lilia, Yakov, and uh- Viktor.  

 

His cheeks flushed the tiniest bit as he adjusted the finishing touches on the bento meant for Yuri’s father, he didn’t know how the world worked for it to happen this way but he wanted to redeem himself from last week’s...fainting incident. He hoped he wasn’t to presumptuous in preparing a lunch for the man,  _ he might already have plans or follows a strict diet - oh maybe he should have made a more balanced meal, he should have ti- _

 

“What are you doing so early, Yuuri?” 

 

Lilia’s quiet appearance at the entrance of the kitchen made the younger man jump two feets, his heart thumping wildly as he greeted his instructor, “G-Good morning Lilia, I was just preparing the lunch for Yura and thought I could make some for you and Yakov. I- uh, promise it’s healthy.” He added a shy smile when he showed Lilia the lunches on the kitchen island. 

 

The ex prima examined the spread before her with critical eye before nodding in approval, her eyebrow raised at the odd number. “Whose is that?” She pointed at the bento he was working on. 

 

“I uh- I thought since I would be making lunch for us and Yura, I should prepare some for Viktor as well if he doesn't have any plans beforehand.” 

 

_ He’d cancel it in a heartbeat _ , Lilia thought, best to keep it to herself for now. 

 

“Lilia, do you know if he follows a strict diet? Should I not put too much in? Does he calorie count?” Lilia watched her protégé fuss over the neatly prepared lunch, she knew Yuuri looked up to Viktor  _ very much so _ he even has a poster in his room and a framed photograph on his table, it was hard not to notice - but worrying over unnecessary matters is a waste of effort. 

 

“Stop fussing, he is fine with anything if he is the same Viktor I know. It’s fine.” His instructor’s clipped tone may seem cold and dismissive, but having to be under her guidance for almost 8 months Yuuri knows it was her way to say  _ don’t worry about it, it will be fine.  _ And Yuuri believe her, so he stopped and finally packed the lunches in bag to keep warm. Lilia took note of the current time and  _ tsked _ , “Yuuri, go prepare yourself or I’ll leave without you.” 

 

The clock hands pointed to 7.15 and Yuuri gasped, he tripped over air in his haste while throwing an apology in the air and ran for his room. In a record worth time, he had changed and packed for the lesson at the rink with the lunches cradled safely in his arms as Lilia drove them both to the rink. 

 

Thankfully it didn’t take long in the early morning traffic and the security guard passed them a short salute of acknowledgement as they reach the rink and parked at Lilia’s reserved spot. Yuuri parted with Lilia after handing her her lunch and Yakov’s when she said she could pass it over to the man and the danseur rushed to the ballet studio for immediate warm up, eager for the day to start. 

 

\------

 

Morning traffic had always been Viktor’s prefered time to drive, although that meant various sacrifices including sleep and having a proper coffee at home, so instead he find himself sipping on take away coffee while sneaking glances at the back of the car where Yuri is nursing a cup of warm milk.

 

He was woken up by the excitable child with a loud  _ Oomph! _ as his son jumped onto Viktor’s previously sleeping self, Makkachin played the devil’s advocate and followed in Yuri’s morning mission when he followed Yuri to jump on him with a playful bark. Viktor groaned as loud as he can and grabbed Yuri by the waist and started his punishment. Yuri squealed as Viktor tickled him with no mercy, “Stop! Papa  _ stooop _ , it tickles!” 

 

They spent almost about 5 minutes just fooling around with Makkachin and Yuri because Viktor refused to step on the cold floors and it made him smile in recollection. The said child was watching the scenery pass in jitters, “Papa, are we there yet?” he asked for the tenth time. 

 

Viktor chuckled and the faithful father he is he answered, “No Yuratchka, we’re not there yet. Give me another ten minutes, yes? I promise you won’t be late.” Yuri huffed at the errant strand of hair in his face and sighed, leaning his head on the car’s window - Viktor doesn’t know where he learns to be that dramatic, certainly not from him that’s for sure. 

 

Yuri ends up asking him the same question another three times before they arrive at the rink. They were by no means the first to arrive at the rink, as several cars litter the sparse parking area, but Viktor recognised one of the cars specifically.  _ It seems Lilia has arrived and with her... Katsuki Yuuri _ , the realisation took his legendary balance away for a few seconds making him trip over the smallest of pebbles.  

 

“Papa, watch where you walk or you’ll fall and have a boo boo.” Yuri frowned at his father’s carelessness and even had the gall to tsk at him disapprovingly. Viktor played along with a hidden smile and bowed his head in remorse, “Of course Yuratchka, Papa promise to be careful.” 

 

This earned him a toothy smile and Yuri patting his head with a very serious, “Good Papa.” 

 

Viktor ascended to heaven. 

 

It was by Yuri’s insistence that he needed to go to class that Viktor returned to the mortal world, he lifted his son into his arms and rained butterfly kisses all over his face making the former squeal. He didn’t let him down until they reached the ballet studio, and the short journey was a recap of what he learned last lesson since Viktor was away early in the week for a brand meeting. “Yuuri taught me the third position but I wasn’t good at it and Tanya was but Yuuri said it was okay and he would help me and he did, and he said I was learning very fast and I would catch up in no time. Oh, but I shouldn’t um..uh push?” 

 

“You shouldn’t push too hard?” Viktor aided with a smile.

 

“Yeah! Cause if I do, I might get boo boo and can’t see Yuuri for a looooooong time and I don’t want to do that so I’m not going to push hard!” 

 

Yuri’s enthusiasm was brighter than the morning sun and Viktor is very pleased with Yuuri’s teaching methods from what he heard from Yuri’s daily ramble about the danseur. He learnt that Yuuri is an extremely patient individual, kind and passionate in his job but also strict in his own ways - he remembers Yuri pouting for an hour early this week because Yuuri won’t let him practice because he didn’t finish the warm up or how an argument broke out in the class and he did not once raised his voice to handle it in under 5 minutes - and above all a great teacher. 

 

Viktor’s palms started to go clammy at the chance to meet the danseur again, he has already caught his eyes the first time he saw Yuuri and today he has a chance to spend time with him  _ and  _ his son, he really hoped he could get to know him better after the unforgettable first meeting. His wandering mind was refocused when Yuri started to wiggle about in his arms demanding to be put down, the door to the studio was open and Yuri ran straight in as fast as his tiny legs could. 

 

“Yuuri!” 

 

Easy chatter filtered through the corridor and Viktor leaned at the entrance to watch the two occupants of the studio, Yuuri had just lowered his legs from the second position and his four year old fluttering like a hummingbird around the older man. Yuuri had given Yuri a dramatic bow, reaching to his feet, which the small russian returned in fervor - laughing all the while. Viktor could hear morning pleasantries exchanged before hearing his name mentioned, then suddenly shining  _ sparkling  _ brown eyes met his across the room and the lips paired to them lifted in a shy smile, cheeks lightly flushed. 

 

Viktor ascended to heaven the second time that very morning. 

 

\-------------------

 

Yuuri recognises the energetic steps that approached the studio and smiled to himself. Time for his day to officially start. He acknowledged Yurio-  _ shit, no, I blame you Phichit-  _ Yura, with a bow from the second position and the boy began his cheerful chatter. 

 

“Yuuri, you remembered that you promised to eat with me today, didn’t you? Papa can be forgetful sometimes, but Yuuri have to remember!” 

 

“Of course I did, no one should make a promise and forget them. But you have to promise to be good in class or I’ll give the bento to Makkachin instead.” Yuuri warned with a twinkle in his eyes. His student made a show of groaning in annoyance and rolling his eyes, “Makkachin didn’t come today so he can’t have my lunch! Papa did though, can he eat with us?” 

 

“Of course Viktor can eat with us, but where is-” Yuuri turned to scan the room and his questions died in his mouth as he found the best skater to grace his life leaning on the door frame watching them. He could feel the heat from the warm up and...other things reach his cheeks but he shouldered on and greeted his guest, “Good morning Viktor, you and Yura are very early today.” 

Viktor straightened from his position and  _ is his smile even legal,  _ Yuuri thinks not. “Yes, well, a certain ball of energy wouldn’t let his poor father sleep a minute in, so here we are.” Yuuri knows his voice should be illegal too. Before Yuuri would recollect himself, Yuri piped up, “Papa, Yuuri said you can eat with us for lunch so Papa don’t have to eat the pity sandwich anymore!” 

 

Viktor visibly winced at Yuri’s word. 

 

“Pity sandwich?” 

 

“This rink may be one of the best in St. Petersburg, but the food they serve can make the devil cry.” 

 

Yuuri can’t help but laugh, he usually had to grab something on the go between the rink and the Bolshoi but has never tried the cafeteria before, glad he could get local review before trying. 

 

“I suppose Yura and I can spare you from the ‘pity sandwich’, I-uh hope I wasn’t too presumptuous but I did pack a lunch for you as well if- if you want to join us?” 

 

He was answered with a loud gasp and the blur of an adult body launching itself at him, “Yuuri~ that’s so sweet, of course I’ll eat with both of you!” The champion skater had pulled him into a certified Russian bear hug and Phichit could have Yuuri’s hamster notebook as his inheritance, because he wasn’t going to survive to use it.  

 

“Papa, no! You’re making Yuuri red again, you promised you wouldn’t!” 

 

Yuuri took one last note of the warmth that engulfed him and the pleasant fragrance of winter and bergamot from Viktor’s coat, he realised he wanted more when the man pulled away with a laugh, “I’m sorry Yuratchka, Papa forgot for a minute.” 

 

The child huffed and seemingly with the intention to avoid a lecture from his four year old son, Viktor had excused himself with a quick peck on Yuri’s cheeks and a promise to pick him up at lunch. The man had given Yuuri his brightest smile and left the room to his control as other children arrived for class. 

 

If Yuuri was half distracted throughout the class, no one seemed to call him out on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna say sorry that it seemed to be very slow in terms of plot, but I wanted to write their early interactions a lot before moving on to something else. I’ve got plot *searches in a pile* somewhere. Any mistakes do feel free to remind me! 
> 
> I still love you all <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri thinks and lunch is a good kind of chaos?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I may have started to ramble since last chapter. Please don’t sue. 
> 
> I was meant to have more written before I posted the next chapter, but I just had a massive urge today, so here I am fkn up my own schedule. You're welcome ;) 
> 
> This is unbeta’d.

Yuri knows he was pretty different from other children, he was always a bit smaller than most kids his age and people often say he has a scary face and no one will want him. That’s what the adults said back in the orphanage.  _ You have to smile more Yuri, go on smile at them, they don’t want a bad kid like you, even your grandfather doesn’t want you  _ \- that’s what they said. 

 

Yuri always hated them, hated their lies, because for one his  _ dedushka  _ did want him - Yuri knows  _ dedushka  _ is often away from home and work so he could keep Yuri with him. His grandfather would always hug Yuri and say the same thing over and over again everyday. 

 

_ I’m sorry for leaving you alone Yuratchka. _

 

_ I’m sorry you have to live with me in this horrible place. _

 

_ Grandpa is working for our sake. _

 

_ Grandpa will protect you. _

 

_ Grandpa loves you so much. _

 

Yuri loves his grandpa too, but the people with weird smiles came one day and took him away, saying how his grandfather can’t take care of him and they’ll bring him to a better place. He didn’t believe them and he was right, but it changed when a tall man walked into the orphanage with a bright smile. Yuri had lowered his head, knowing a man like that would not like a bad kid like him. He was pleasantly mistaken. The tall man had approached him with a kind smile, the caretaker fussing behind him but the man  _ shooed  _ her away, the young boy had liked him already. 

 

“Hello, my name is Viktor. Is it okay if I sit with you?” The man introduced himself and pointed to where Yuri was sitting at the corner with his ragged cat plushie. Yuri didn’t mind, he was polite and grandpa said polite is a good thing and that was the start. 

 

The next week, Yuri walked with his hand in Viktor’s warm welcoming ones and they went to what Viktor calls  _ home _ , there was also a really fluffy dog. Viktor brought  _ dedushka  _ to him the next day and let him choose his name, Plisetsky or Nikiforov, he chose Plisetsky and grandpa cried hugging him. 

 

Within a month, Yuri calls Viktor papa. Because that’s what Viktor is to him. 

 

\--------------

 

Yuri really really likes his papa, but recently his papa is being annoying - more than usual. Papa is also picking on Yuuri and Yuri doesn’t like that. Yuuri is nice and kind, doesn’t smell like weird perfumes, and dances  _ really _ pretty, he also doesn’t speak to Yuri like a baby. 

 

Yuri  _ really _ likes Yuuri. 

 

Yuri  _ really _ doesn’t like his papa making Yuuri red and faint, he doesn’t want papa to annoy Yuuri and make Yuuri leave him. Papa also looks at Yuuri weird. This made the four year old sigh with resignation, it seems he will have to protect Yuuri from his papa no matter how much Yuri loves papa. 

 

This brings him to the current situation. 

 

He was so happy Yuuri had remembered his promise and Yuri was most excited for lunch, but Papa was making Yuuri really red again and he didn’t like it. Papa is usually a very nice person but if Papa was going to bully Yuuri then Yuri will protect him, because no matter how much Yuri loves his papa bullying is a bad thing. The young child made it his mission in the privacy of his mind as the class began and was on his best behaviour for Yuuri’s sake. 

 

\-------------

 

Time, unexpectedly, flew for Viktor since the moment he reported to Yakov’s office in the morning - the man chugging a cup of coffee like usual - and he put him to work. They had skaters to train for next season and they need to confirm all the training schedule for the month, this has them mulling for hours and when they sent the finalised document to the Russian team it was already the end of Yuri’s ballet class, which also meant: lunch. 

 

“I’m going to pick Yuri up now, see you later Yakov,” Viktor has thrown at the older man and was out the office in less than a second. Yakov found his constant frown failing him as the edges of his lips threatened to become a smile, he was mildly comforted by the fact he wouldn’t have to suffer through cafeteria food when Lilia arrived not a minute later with a bag full of blessings. 

 

Viktor on the other hand was more than happy to show his growing smile to the world as he approached the ballet studio, he saw Yuuri waving goodbye to some children and their parents with small drops of sweat lining his forehead but it did nothing to dull the brilliant smile and shining eyes that the beautiful man was born with. As a healthy athlete he has never had asthma before, but he was close to having an attack from the sudden lack of air in his lungs. When the last of the children left, Viktor cleared his throat to alert the danseur of his arrival. 

 

“Yuuri! Are you and  _ moya zvezda _ ready for our lunch?” 

 

Those beautiful browns met his cerulean once again and brightened, “Oh yes of course, just let me change quickly and I’ll be with you shortly. You uh...can wait with Yura inside if you’d like?” 

 

“No problem!” 

 

When he entered the room, Yuri was sitting on one side of the studio with his bag on the floor in the attempt of  shoving  arranging his things into it, he looked up at the intrusion and beamed then next second it dropped. Worried, Viktor approached his son softly, “ _ Moya zvezda _ are you alright? Did something happen in class?” Yuri merely shook his head and returned to putting things in his bag. Viktor waited patiently and when Yuri finished, he looked up at him and whispered, “I have a mission today, Papa. So I have to prepare.” 

 

“A mission?” 

 

A nod. 

 

“What kind of mission Yuri?” Viktor whispered in secrecy.

“To protect Yuuri,” His son whispered back, but before Viktor could ask him any further Yuuri returned to the room with a soft duffel bag and a tote bag, “Sorry to keep you two waiting, shall we go for lunch?” 

 

Yuri nodded enthusiastically and made a rush to the exit, looking back at Viktor expectantly. Viktor pushed himself to his feet and followed them out the studio, noticing that Yuri placed himself right in between him and Yuuri while giving him an unmistakeable cold look, making the grown ass man pout.  _ What is going on?  _

 

They decided to have lunch in one of the refreshment rooms, with large ceiling to floor windows that looked out at the small lake and garden at the back of the rink, only accessible to staff of the establishment. They would have chosen to eat outside instead but the wind was strong today and no one wanted the risk to get sick, much less a child, so they set up lunch inside. 

 

“I don’t know what you like to eat, so I just prepared something simple, I hope you don’t mind.” Yuuri said shyly as he took out the boxed lunch and handed it Viktor, he helped Yuri to open his bento and handed the boy a disposable fork.  _ Twice you’ve met the man and it has gotten this domestic, someone save my soul _ , Viktor’s mind wandered as he watched their interaction. 

 

He finally got a proper look at the aforementioned ‘simple’ lunch after prying his eyes away and choked. How can this creation be  _ something simple _ it doesn’t make sense! 

 

“Papa, are you alright? Drink water?” His son offered him a worried look and his tiger print water bottle, Viktor turned him down and tried his best assuring the boy and the soon to be panicked Japanese godsent in front of him. “I’m sorry, but Yuuri this could hardly be called simple! This is a feast and a half and oh, you’ll have to let us repay you somehow,” Viktor took one of Yuuri’s hand and raised it slightly like the very hand of god making the man cook faster than a lobster. 

 

“ _ No no no no no no no _ , it’s nothing big really, I’m uh...I’m glad you like it?” 

 

Viktor didn’t waste a second to offer more praise but a loud smack rang and a soft burning feeling grew from his hand. Both Viktor and Yuuri blinked owlishly at Yuri as the boy smiled in an almost believable innocent way, if he hadn’t just smacked his father’s hand from Yuuri. 

 

“I think Yuuri’s lunch looks really good too! It’s so much better than when Papa cooked!” 

 

“I uh- see, let’s dig in then, you must be hungry Yura,” the danseur regained his focus and lightly patted Yuri’s head with a smile which Yuri returned ten folds. They begin to dig in when Viktor stopped staring at his son in confusion and brightened after taking the first bite with an exclaimed, “ _ Vkusno _ !”

 

After the first few bites, the silver haired man had tried to get to know the gentle danseur sitting in front of him with a few questions which had always been interrupted by Yuri’s demand of attention from his intended conversation partner.

 

“So…Yuuri, wha-”

 

“Yuuri, help me with the rice, please!” 

 

“How long have you been-”

 

“Yuuri, can I have tissue?” 

 

“What’s your favo-”

 

“Ah, Yuuri I want more egg!” 

  
  


Viktor’s patience was slowly growing thin and Yuuri surprisingly had a look of disapproval on his face.  _ At him?  _

 

The danseur sighed and turned to face  _ Yuri _ instead, “Yura, it’s impolite to interrupt people when they speak, especially to your own papa. Do you want people to interrupt you when  _ you _ speak?” 

 

Yuri shook his head in shame. A light sign of mortification on his cheeks. 

 

“Yes, I’m sure you don’t. Now, I’m not angry at you, but maybe you should apologise to your Papa?” 

 

Viktor watched as his son turned to him apologised in a small voice, his smile was warm and soft as he replied, “It’s okay Yuratchka, thank you apologising.” 

 

His son accepted a pat to his head in relief and all three of them were eager to return to their respective lunches. “Yuuri,” the boy called tentatively, “can I still have more egg?” 

 

The danseur’s light demeanor returned and his laugh felt like the star’s twinkle to Viktor’s ear, “Of course Yura, here you go.” 

 

Viktor was definitely right about Yuuri, he would  _ love _ to know more about the amazing man before him. 

 

“So Yuuri, what do you think of joining our skating practice later?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just to clarify, Yuri’s grandfather is still very alive and will make an appearance and all the time Yuri says dedushka or grandpa it refers to Nikolai Plisetsky. 
> 
> Yuuri’s mothering came out instinctively especially since he has to deal with three naughty children back in Japan.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri learns about the people he fed at lunch. Yuuri also made an accidental move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of people thought Yuuri was going to skate today and I think it’s because you thought Viktor was training Yuri ? I totally didn’t even think of it and am kinda regretting it, but unfortunately now is not the time - he’ll have plenty of chance in the future. Today, we focus on a precious little boy.
> 
> Unbeta'd

Squeals of high pitched laughter assaulted his ears with chills if the icy tendrils coming from the pure white ice rink in front of him. It was in every means occupied with two children classes sharing the large rink, the children were dressed in bright colored coats moving about excitedly on the ice, laughing and playing around as they should while two coaches whom Yuuri slightly recognised were trying to bring order back into the session. 

 

This wasn’t how Yuuri would normally spend his weekend afternoon. Normally he would be in a studio practicing his steps either at the Bolshoi or at Lilia’s, or he would be curled up in one of the lounge sofas with a book and a cup of tea - and sometimes with Lilia’s maine coon, or he would be skyping with Phichit and his family, or even at the local park feeding ducks while he takes the luxury of petting every dog that passes near him.  _ Just not… _

 

“Yuuri, sorry to keep you waiting!” Viktor called out to him, his name cheerfully dragged in childish enthusiasm, with two cups in his hands. The Russian man handed him one of it with a big smile, “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or tea, so I got us hot chocolate instead, if that’s okay.” 

 

_ Here. _

 

“Oh o-of course, I like hot chocolate just fine!” Yuuri hastened to receive the cup with a flush, trying to avoid eye contact with his idol. 

 

“That’s great, I love hot chocolate, they’re as sweet as your eyes.” The danseur choked on his first sip, gasping for air, looking at him like a deer in the headlights and Viktor could hear the alarms blazing in his head  _ abort abort abort _ . It took two minutes of awkward silence and two attempts of salvaging the situation before they both calmed down, staring blankly at their own hands. 

Yuuri surprised himself by speaking up first, “So about Yurio-”,  _ damnit Phichit,  _ “I mean, Yura, what does he like to eat? I-I’d try my best to make it next week, though I can’t promise anything amazing.” In an attempt to quell his anxiousness, he rubbed the back of his neck for comfort before turning to look at his conversation partner, who seemed to have blanked out. 

 

“Pirozhki,” He blurted out. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I mean, my Yura loves pirozhki, his grandfather makes one of the best out here,” Viktor’s smile when he explained radiated happiness and serenity, it was an unforgettable vision burned into the depth of Yuuri’s retina. Yuuri gave it a thought with an innocent tongue peeking out of his lips, he has heard of pirozhki before and Lilia have even bought some for him before but he has never tried to make it on his own, it was  _ almost _ like the fried pastry Phichit liked when they were still roommates in Detroit so it shouldn’t be that hard.  _ Hopefully Lilia wouldn’t mind being a taste tester _ . 

 

Yuuri was startled out of his thoughts when Viktor made a noise eerily similar to a dying cat but the other man was doing nothing of the sort when he looked at him, Viktor was lightly watching the rink - his eye searching - then, “Look Yuuri, there’s Yuratchka! Isn’t he great on the ice and oooh his balance has really improved,” the older man cooed. 

 

Yuri was indeed on the ice, with - what Yuuri quickly learned was his favorite - the tiger patterned jacket, he was easy to spot. And so were they apparently as Yuri gave them a bright smile and a massive wave of his arms before returning his attention to one of the coach. Viktor gave a deep sigh of affection as he watched his son skate in circles, making Yuuri blush at the pure emotion he was presented with. 

 

“Viktor.” He called. 

 

“Hm?” 

 

“I-I hope I am not overstepping my boundaries, even though I may have read the news and interviews I still don’t...understand it clearly, what made you come to Yuri? What made you choose him?” 

 

The former skater blinked at him and took a moment to register his question, “I don’t...I didn’t choose Yuri. I- You could say it was an impulse of mine when I went to the orphanage, I had spent so many year living alone now that I was used to it but one day I just- I just thought I really wanted a family.” Viktor took a deep breath and looked ahead, gathering memories, “Yakov was really against it at first, obviously, he kept saying how I couldn’t possibly be this irresponsible and that a child is not a pet etc. etc. But my legs took me there and I was introduced to all the children, to all but one as I found out, that was huddled to one corner of the orphanage.”

 

Yuuri’s breath hitched.

 

“They told me I shouldn’t mind him because he wasn’t really an orphan, he still had a living grandfather but he was too...unqualified, too old, and...unresourceful to take care of Yuri so he was brought to the house - not to mention with a temper.” Words were chosen carefully, but Yuuri understands, he understands. 

 

“They told me he would rarely speak to anyone and had a bad attitude, so he wasn’t the  _ right  _ one for me, but they were so wrong. I told them to leave me with him for a while and he just,”  _ deep breath,  _ “He looked at me with eyes brighter than the stars and a will stronger than soldiers when he allowed me to sit with him, it was- it was all I need to know.” Viktor met his eyes and Yuuri could see a range of emotions, he was honored to be told this story. 

 

“After that, most were history. I met with Yura’s grandfather and learned his mother died in an accident and his father was never known, you should meet the man Yuuri you’d be intimidated, but he is an amazing man. Nikolai, Yuri’s grandfather that is, visits us for a few days every month and Yuri is always so hyper.” 

 

Yuuri watched for a moment longer as his childhood idol gushed about his student, he may have only known Yuri and Viktor for a very short time, but it was nice knowing at least two amazing people in this world has love. “I’m sure Yura is happy with you as a father,” he said.

 

The Russian legend gasped and threw himself on Yuuri, draping his entire body over the danseur’s smaller physique. “Yuu~ri, you are such a nice person, Yura is so lucky to have you as an instructor! Oh, I wish you had thought me instead.” Yuuri had a heart attack and his blood pressure went through the roof, squeaking at the very intimate proximity he had with Viktor. 

 

“Papa, stop bullying Yuuri!” Yuri shout made them jump and Viktor threw a kiss at his seething son, “It’s okay Yuratchka, Yuuri is fine! I’m not bullying him.” 

 

A massive smack to the head made Viktor reassess his own safety. “You fumbling idiot! What do you think you are doing here, I don’t pay you to mess around in my rink!” Yakov’s deep and extremely agitated voice assaulted Viktor’s eardrums with no mercy. Yuuri has also flinched at the Yakov’s rage volume. 

 

“Yakov, it’s fine, it’s fine, I was just showing Yuuri here Yura’s practice for a while.” Viktor has raised his hands in surrender and the older coach finally noticed the danseur at the mention of his name. Yakov gave him a gruff acknowledgement, “It was totally unnecessary, but thank you for the lunch.” 

Yuuri brightened at the gratitude, “Oh it’s no problem at all, I’m glad you liked it.” 

 

“Wait. What.” 

 

“Hmph, you have great cooking skills I’ll give you that.” 

 

“Wait, no, Yakov  _ you  _ had Yuuri’s lunch as well?” Both men looked at Viktor questionably, “Yeah, why?” Yakov grunted.

 

Yuuri had no defense when his idol decided to re-attach himself to his person and whined childishly, “Yuuuuuuri, I thought this was a special lunch for us!” 

 

_ Why is  _ Viktor Nikiforov _ clinging to me?????? Again??????  _  His quickly short circuiting brain asked, 

 

“It was a special lunch for  _ Yura _ ! I just thought it was convenient to make it for all of us,” the danseur tried and failed to push the Viktor away from him and realised, “Oh Yakov, do you like pirozhki? I would try to make it next week.” 

 

“I’m fine with it.” 

 

Yuuri nodded in acknowledgement, “I’ll do my best then.” 

 

“Wait, Yuuri,” the serious tone Viktor took turned all attention to him. “Wh- I- I haven’t asked you yet, but are you saying you’ll make us lunch again? Next week?” 

 

Yuuri frowned at the question, “Isn’t that what I said from the s-” 

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

“Oh my god, I’m  so sorry for presuming things! You don’t have to-  _ oh my god- _ ” 

 

Viktor turned the Japanese man a new shade of red when he pulled him close one more time, “Yuuri, you are the best!” 

  
Yuuri hardly registered the smack Viktor received for the second time from a livid Yakov, that’s funny, his eyes are spinning so badly. Goodbye cruel world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is very sparse yet vital in this chapter, but more to come I promise. Any questions, hit me up on tumblr or in the comment sections below. More Phichit in the next chapter~ 
> 
> All your support and love make me cry, thank you so much <3
> 
> See you next time !


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit and Yuuri have a nice chat. This statement is both true and false.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day? 
> 
> I’m so thankful to everyon who commented last chapter and I’m sorry I didn’t reply, I was stuck writing the chapter to focus on anything else, that’s also why this chapter is pretty late :((( Either way, I hope you enjoy Japanese National Katsudon and the Holy Prince of Thailand. 
> 
> Unbeta’d <3

“You, Katsuki Yuuri, accidentally asked Viktor Nikiforov out on a second date.” Phichit states. 

 

“It’s not a date!” 

 

Phichit laughs freely at the laptop monitor at his best friend’s boiled crab complexion, Yuuri was still vehemently trying to deny the  _ not date _ he had with his childhood (and current) idol. 

 

“Yuuri Yuuri Yuuri, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about~ Didn’t Mr. Living Legend himself say he was ecstatic to meet you again next week?” The whining noises that came from his friend could hardly be classified human, “Alright, let’s not work ourselves too much okay. Do you want to meet him again next week, even though with a 4 year old tagging along?” 

 

“Of course!” 

 

“Did they agree to this?” 

 

Yuuri’s mumbled reply was even more worse through the internet connection, “Viktor was...happy I suppose, and Yuri- I mean Yurio made me pinky promise three times.” 

 

“Do you feel burdened having to make lunch again?” 

 

“No, I like cooking. Lilia eats more when I do and Yakov gets a more balanced meal...I think.” 

 

“Wait, Yakov? Yakov Feltsman? You cook for the Yakov Feltsman as well?” 

 

“Well, he is my supervisor at the rink and Lilia thought it was a great idea, didn’t see why not,” the danseur lifted his shoulders in a shrug and Phichit hopes he realises he’s basically cooking for not just one, but three of Russia’s national pride. 

 

“Alright, okay, so everything seems to be in order, so go have that second date Yuuri.” Phichit was not above teasing Yuuri when he has the chance and enjoyed watching Yuuri fluster at his words. “You’re horrible, Phichit.” Yuuri huffed.

 

“I love you too, now aren’t you going to ask about me and Ciao Ciao? But more importantly, me.” 

 

It was Yuuri’s turn to laugh and they moved on from the previous topic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. How are you and Celestino? But more importantly you, Phichit?” 

 

“It’s great! Amazing! Wonderful! I’ve finally managed to land my quads cleanly and Ciao Ciao said I’ve improved so much, with your Viktor out of the way I might even have a chance at the podium!” 

 

“Seriously Phichit, he’s not  _ my  _ Viktor,” he sighed, “But I’m glad to hear it, you’ve always worked hard. Didn’t you promise to send me your practice videos?” 

 

“Oh yeah! I’ll get the footage from Ciao Ciao tomorrow and send it to you, speaking of footage...” 

 

“Hm?” 

 

“It seems Veronica is asking about you here.” 

 

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I last spoke to her.” 

 

“Umhm, she wanted to know if she can post your pole dancing routine on the website and when you’re coming back to pole dance with her again.” 

 

“OMG Phichit, no.” Yuuri’s cheeks flared up in mild mortification at the memories of his pole dancing years, he may have had casual roles at the local Detroit Ballet Company but it wasn’t really enough to pay for his university. 

 

“But  _ whyyyyy _ , Yuuri you were amazing! Veronika said your regulars are still asking about you at the club, at least let them know you’re alive!” 

 

The danseur threw his face into the pillow he was cuddling on the bed and screamed for a minute before emerging again, “Fine, but tell her not to tag me  _ anywhere _ on social media.” 

 

“Sweet, I’ll pass that on to her.” 

 

Yuuri huffed as he stuffed his face into a pillow and groaned, waiting for the inevitable contact from Veronica, she was sort of his saviour when she offered him a job at the club adjoined to the pole dancing classes to help pay for tuition, but he was never going to get over her trying to pair him up with someone to his constant embarrassment. If Phichit is his sworn brother since university days, Veronica was the #1 Meddlesome Aunt, still, in the end he found himself smiling from past memories. 

 

Yuuri looked up when he realised Phichit was speaking again, “Now that we’ve talked about me and dear Veronica, what about you?” 

 

“I thought we did at the start?” he raised an eyebrow at his friend.

 

“No, we talked about you  _ and  _ your 6 times champion Russian beefcake, not you. So, really, how are you?” 

 

The Japanese danseur didn’t know where Phichit got his instincts or sharp observation from, but he certainly doesn’t know how to feel about it at the moment. “Is it that obvious?” 

 

“You may not be the most beauty conscious person I know, Yuuri - and your Japanese genes makes you look immortal anyway - but you’ve been looking tired, even more than usual. What’s going on Yuuri, really?” 

 

Phichit’s face was rid of the jovial expression he previously had, now he was both serious and concerned, Yuuri wished he wasn’t the cause of it everytime he saw Phichit this way. He also knew saying the usual  _ it’s nothing really, just a bit stressed from practice _ would not work. 

 

“I- training has been hard, harder than I expected. Madam Lilia’s schedule is gruelling but always reasonable, so I’ve nothing to worry there but…” 

 

“But?” 

 

“Training at the Bolshoi is...harder than I thought and I’m having a little trouble keeping up especially while teaching at the rink.” 

 

That wasn’t the end of it, both of them knew. 

 

Phichit was patient, he always was with Yuuri, and he appreciated it as Yuuri tried to explain his situation without making Phichit go into overprotective mode. It happened  _ one  _ time and Yuuri doesn’t feel like making it happen again. 

 

“The Bolshoi’s premier danseur, Ivan, is training me alongside Madam and he’s been adding extra training because he think I might slack off by taking the role as part time instructor for Yakov. It wasn’t that bad at first, going there three times a week, but fatigue might have caught up to me.” Yuuri watched as Phichit’s eyes tightened and his lips thinned in disapproval. 

 

“ _ My _ Katsuki Yuuri is the last person in this world who would ever  _ slack off _ .” 

 

“I do try not to.” 

 

“He has absolutely no reason to put you in more practice.” 

 

“I’m not really one to judge that, Phichit. Maybe my form hasn’t been in the best condition in his eyes?” 

 

“Has  _ the  _ Lilia Baranovskaya mentioned anything about it?” 

 

“Madam is too kind.” 

 

A pause. That sounded ridiculous out from his mouth. 

 

“Okay, umm well, she hasn’t said anything.” 

 

“Well this Ivan is an utter shit,” Phichit announced with a conviction, “I, for one, does not accept this treatment of you. Have you told the Madam?” 

 

“She knows, but even she couldn’t dictate what the Bolshoi should do with me and Ivan is the current premier.” 

 

“Fuck that.” 

 

Yuuri hummed in agreement, watching the screen lag at the Thai’s frowning face, “She is trying to help, I know of this, so you don’t have to worry too much Phichit.” 

 

The sigh that resonated from the computer was very familiar to Yuuri’s ears, “You’re way too kind for your own good Yuuri.” 

 

“Isn’t that why I have you?” The danseur chuckled, it dragged a smile from the Thai skater and he considered it a win for him. 

 

“ _ Yeesss _ , but I’m being utterly useless in Detroit when you’re in that frozen continent.” 

 

Yuuri hacked a laugh and watch confusion rise in his friend, “Phichit, you’re here for me whenever I need to talk and that’s more than I could ask for. Thank you.” 

 

“Oh God, why are you so sappy now,” the other whined, “It’s not helping my best-friend withdrawal symptoms.” 

 

“I’m not apologising.” Yuuri smirked at the camera. 

 

“Fine, screw you then,” the screen went shaky as Phichit readjusted the camera, but it stabled soon enough, “I’m telling you, Yuuri, if you need me to go there and kick his ass or hide his body, I would. If you someone to talk to, I’m here. Hell, even call Christophe, Guang Hong, Leo, or even your Minako-sensei - just don’t forget I’m here, okay?” 

 

“Now you’re sappy.” 

 

“Urgh, answer me man!” 

 

Yuuri laughed again and obliged, before Phichit compulsively buy a ticket to St. Petersburg, “Yes Phichit, I know you’re all here for me.” 

 

“Good, now go to sleep you overworked ass, you’ll never hear the end of it from me if you collapse. Off!” 

 

Yuuri was still smiling as he settled down on his soft bed after saying goodbye to Phichit, he might have embarrassed himself monumentally this afternoon but Phichit always made things better, even harsh training from Ivan seemed so less. It was good dreams that followed his release of consciousness, of steel against ice, cerulean eyes, and platinum hair. 

  
It was warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I - a very unreliable writer - has just realized that the Bolshoi theatre is located in Moscow but this is set in St. Petersburg? So for convenience sake (I am very sorryyyy) let’s just say there’s a branch theatre at St. Petersburg and both Ivan and Yuuri practice there because Lilia demands it for her protégé, da? 
> 
> Curious how in the heck Yuuri knows all those skaters? Speculations welcome, but stay tuned ;D
> 
> So sorry lads and lasses, this is what happens when you just write and no planning ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Viktor keeps missing Yuuri’s weekday classes and no one is helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I POSTED THE WRONG CHAPTER BEFORE THIS ONE, I MESSED UP REAL BAD HOLY SHIT I AM SORRY, I AM SO SORRY
> 
> PLS JUST LET ME FIND A HOLE AND DIE IN THERE 
> 
> *SCREAMING* 
> 
> A/N: This is such a filler and I apologise?

The office was once a brand new and shiny thing to behold, it was once a private and quiet space for his work, and it was once a place for him to relax and have time for himself. Once. It was once that way. Yakov take a deep sigh to take in what is in front of him, papers, various documents, and thick folders are strewn about the desk and cabinets, a flickering computer screen stood in front of him and a half empty coffee cup - the only decent thing the cafeteria actually offers - sits next to the mouse. It seems like he was missing something…

Oh yes, the two children that thinks his office is a playground. One of them is a 27 year old, bothering a hard working 4 year old, oh what a twist.

“Yuri, how was your day?”

“It was fine Papa.”

“Umhm, wanna tell me about it? How was school?”

“Meh, boring.”

“Oooh, tell me more.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow in disbelief when he looked up from his book, “Papa, I’m doing my homework.” Lifting the worksheet for his father to see, different shapes of animals litter the page with their names on the side, some are half coloured in while some have yet to be worked on. 

“Yes, yes, seems interesting. Do you need help?”

“No papa, just shhhhh.”

“Oh yes, yes.” Viktor repeated the shushing noise and fell into silence watching his son, a little too closely for comfort. It didn’t surprise either Yuri or Yakov that he couldn’t keep his silence for more than a minute.

“So Yuratchka,” Viktor started as he fiddled with the ends of his son’s hair, “how is your class with Yuuri?”

“It’s fine, papa.”

“Did he...say anything?”

Yuri tilted his head to the side in thought, “He said I have good balance and I could easily be a danseur like Yuuri.”

“Do you want to?”

“No papa, I want to skate,” Yuri stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, it wasn’t the first time he had to.

“Okay, that’s perfectly fine zvezda moya, so did Yuuri mention anything about...a friend of his? A really good friend of his? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

Yuri shook his head in answer, “Oh, then can you ask him?”

Yakov took that moment to snap at his idiotic skater, “Viktor, stop harassing your son and start doing your job!” The coffee cup threaten to fall over with how the table shook at Yakov’s outburst. Yet the 27 year old had the gall to pout at him in that fashion of his, “But Yakov! I need to know~ I’ve tried a whole week trying to find out more about Yuuri and no one seems to know or tell me anything!”

“Because it’s none of your darn business and ask him yourself if you’re that bloody curious, leave Yura out of this.” Yakov sank further into his seat and motioned for the other more mature occupant of the room over to him, the 4 year old enthusiastically climbed onto Yakov’s lap and settled himself nicely in the man’s surprisingly warm embrace. “Yura, listen well my boy, don’t grow up to be like your father unless you wish me an early death.”

Yakov ignored the indignant gasp from Viktor, eyes smiling when Yuri nodded in seriousness, “I promise Grandpa Yakov, I’ll be better than papa.”

“Good lad.” They both laughed at the utterly betrayed look on the Russian living legend, the man pouting and throwing shredded paper at them claiming mutiny. It took them more than five minutes for the laughter to properly die down without one or the other bursting into further laughter.

It was almost time for Yuri’s skating lessons so Viktor packed for him before leading them both to the rink after a quick goodbye to his mentor. Karina was the class’ coach and she is already helping some of the students put on their skates before she looked up to see two most popular people in the rink approach with a wave.

“Good afternoon Yura, ready to skate?”

The child’s rapid nods were easy to understand and he rushed to one of the benches to put his skates on. Karina stood to address Viktor, eyes lit with mischief, “Say Vitya, how’s trying to find out about your other dear Yuuri?”

She laughed when the silver haired man slouched dramatically on the ice barrier with a soulful groan, “That bad?”

“No one would tell me anything, Kara! I’ve asked from the coaching team, the admin, the cafeteria and even Lilia and no one would tell me anything! Now Yakov won’t even let me ask Yuri.” Karina patted him on the back with barely hidden mirth, letting the skater bemoan his luck for a few more minutes before Yuri returns from putting on his skates. It wasn’t that Karina didn’t want to ease her old rinkmate’s...suffering, per se, it’s just that she owed a good favor for the damn fine pirozhki the danseur brought over for a taste test early this week and it seemed to her Katsuki Yuuri was a man fond of personal privacy and an avid fan of peace and quiet, so she couldn’t bring it upon herself to chuck a silver haired hurricane at him.

“You’ll see Yuuri again this weekend, won’t you? It’ll be fine~” Viktor moaned how it seems everyone was saying that him. Yuri returned to them after putting his skates on and seemed very eager for the ice so Karina gave him an okay to enter the rink and the boy started to skate around the edges. “Speaking of the weekend,” she remembered, “isn’t your boy’s grandfather coming to visit?”

“Yeah, Nikolai is staying over the weekend and Yuri’s already very excited, I’m sure he already has all the updates ready for him about his ballet and skating. Yura’s been telling everyone who wants to listen.” Viktor, who was taking fifteen photos of Yuri on the ice per minute, chuckled. Maybe he could invite Nikolai over to see Yuri at ballet, he’s sure the older man would like to meet his grandson’s most adoredTM person and if he could distract Yuri while he talks to the other Yuuri, that could only be a plus.

“I’m still rather worried about him, living in his farm alone. I offered him to stay with us, but he refused and he has to drive hours, all the way to town for the weekend in his age, guess stubbornness comes from the mother’s side.”

“Couldn’t Nikolai find a place closer to town?”

Viktor shook his head, “The farm is the Plisetsky family pride, I don’t think he’s ready to let go just yet.”

Karina gave the former skater another comforting pat, “Persuade him again if you’re so worried, I’m sure he’ll listen to reason.” The usually energetic man sighed again, before turning to smile at her, “Thank you Kara, you’re a joy.”

“You’re welcome old boy, now get lost! I have a class to teach!”

Viktor barely let himself be pushed out of the rink by Karina, while he continued to take photos of Yuri getting utterly embarrassed as his father shouted a million encouragement and endearment at him. Other parents and occupant of the rink watched as the well known champion was being yelled at by a four year old and the skating coach forced him out the room, some were used to it, some were going home with an interesting story for the dinner table.

Viktor predicted the week was going to go really slow before the weekend finally arrives again and he has more than one reason to speak to a specific danseur and spend some quality time to get to know each other, he was right. What he didn’t predict, is Friday night.  
\--------------------------

A/N: Kara is a diminutive, like a nickname, for the name Karina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID I MENTION I AM SORRY?
> 
> P.S: Now a lot of people has been commenting on Yuri's homework, it was only meant to be a drawing and colouring homework, I know I didn't specify but I'm not about to give a four year old like biology homework or anything ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Pretty sure a people at any age would at least try to concentrate to do their homework amirite?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday was not a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for all the previous comments and really sorry it took me so long to reply, but we all agree a new chapter is of a higher priority, да? 
> 
> Unbeta'd, spread the love, kudos, and comments.

Friday was supposed to be a good day. 

 

Friday was supposed to be an exciting day, being the start of the weekend and all. 

 

Friday was not a good day. 

 

Friday started well enough, Viktor sent Yuri to the kindergarten and Tanya, their kind elderly neighbour, will be picking him up afterwards because Viktor had to accompany a group of novice skaters to have their skates fitted. Viktor had an overall productive day (counting the lack of yelling he got from Yakov on a daily basis), he went through the training regimens with Yakov and finalised training schedules for the senior skaters, went through his paperwork, and trained in the rink himself. It really was a productive day for Viktor, keeping in mind the massive reward he will get tomorrow. 

 

He had just entered the door when Yuri came barreling forwards with Makkachin at his heels, sweeping Viktor’s balance from his feet and they came together in a messy pile of human and canine at the front door - Yuri and Viktor laughing while Makkachin barked, demanding her walk. The skater managed to change to more comfortable clothes and wrestle his son into a jumper before being dragged back out the door for the local park. Yuri was allowed to hold Makkachin’s leash and was chattering away about school today while his faithful father took multiple photos for all social media imaginable, apparently they made a poster today about hobbies and Yuri is very excited to show him and his grandfather tomorrow. 

 

“ _ But can’t I see it today _ ?” 

 

“ _ No, papa. Tomorrow. _ ” 

 

Makkachin had a blast running in the park, frolicking in the leaves and getting all the attention to herself from park visitors. They left the park after an hour and Viktor tried (again) to make dinner, but failed (again) so they ended up with a takeaway from down the road. After shower and dinner are out of the way, they sat at the sofa watching Yuri’s favorite cartoon on TV while Viktor browsed his instagram, trying for the 43rd time to find Katsuki Yuuri to no avail. It was getting ridiculous and Viktor had half a mind to have his son get that information from the danseur if that plan isn’t as bad as it already is. 

 

That was when the phone call came. 

 

It rang showing an unknown number and Viktor moved to the corridor and picked up in confusion, “Hello?” 

 

“Mr. Viktor Nikiforov?” 

 

“Speaking, how can I help you?” This sounded official, did Georgi get in trouble and needed a bail, no, Mila is more possible for that.

 

“That’s great, Mr. Nikiforov I am calling on behalf of Pyogorov Clinic because you are listed as emergency contact for our patient, Nikolai Plisetsky, is that correct?” 

 

_ Oh no. _

 

“I- yes, what happened? Is Nikolai hurt? Is he alright?” 

 

“Mr. Plisetsky was found in his farmhouse with a badly sprained ankle and back, good news is it’s not a serious injury and he would be fine after treatment and rehab, bad news is he would not be able to make the journey to town as he informed me.” Viktor let out a huge sigh of relief. 

 

“Oh thank god, is he with you now? Can he speak with me? Does he have anyone to care for him? Oh wait-” 

 

The nurse chuckled over the phone and started to answer him, “I can pass the phone to him if you’d like, the doctor is just about to finish the treatment.” 

 

“Thank you, please.” 

 

The slight tug on his sleeves snapped him to focus, realising Yuri must have been curious about his absence, “Papa alright?” 

 

“Yuratchka, I’m- yes, papa is fine. You can go back to the sofa, I’ll be back in a minute okay?” 

 

Yuri nodded and went back just in time as the nurse patched him through to Nikolai, the man’s familiar gruff voice greeted him, “Vitya, how are you?” 

 

Viktor’s laugh raced out, “I think I should be the one asking you that Nikolai, how are you? What’s going on? Do you have anyone to take care of you?” 

 

“It’s just a sprain and I’ve always had a bad back, it’s fine, don’t fuss.” 

 

“I know someone who will fuss more than me.” 

 

“Oh Yuratchka, tell him I’m sorry I won’t make it tomorrow.” He could hear the regret from miles away and Viktor hoped his son wouldn’t been to sad. 

 

“It’ll be fine, your grandson is very understanding. Do you have anyone to look after you in the meantime?” 

 

“Maxim and his wife found me and they insist I stay with them for a few days, I’ll be fine.” 

 

“That’s good to hear, but do you need us to come over? You can come and stay with us instead.”  There was rustling on the other line and he thinks they are moving Nikolai, he replied soon with what has been the same answer for the past year, “Don’t be ridiculous, this is just a small thing. Yuratchka have lessons tomorrow, doesn’t he?” 

 

“Yes, but his grandfather is also important.” 

 

It was a futile attempt, at least at the moment, so Viktor doesn’t push far. “Do you want to speak to him? Yura has missed you.” 

 

An excited hmph and the phone is passed to a TV distracted child, “It’s  _ dedushka _ , Yuri.” 

 

He watched as his son took the phone in excitement and decided he couldn’t bear to see his soon disappointed face so Viktor went to the kitchen to give them some privacy. The low murmurs of conversation flowed into the kitchen as Viktor took Yuri’s favorite mug out, he reckon some hot chocolate might lift his spirits up. Makkachin trotted up to him and huffed at his hand so he gave the good girl a long scratch behind the ears, “Hey girl, be good to Yuri for me yes? He’ll be so upset after this.” 

 

Makkachin whined and barked in response, turning in a circle before plopping down with a wide smile,  _ I know what to do _ , it seemed to say. The four year old followed into the kitchen soon after, in time for Viktor to prepare the hot chocolate and he placed it on the kitchen island for Yuri.  

 

“ _ Dedushka _ is hurt.” 

 

“Mm, I heard Yuratchka. I’m sorry he couldn’t come tomorrow.” 

 

Yuri shook his head, it was then Viktor noticed the tears threatening to fall from green blue eyes. He rushed and dropped to his knees, pulling Yuri into an embrace where the dam broke and Viktor had an armful of a shaking sobbing child. 

 

“It’s okay  _ solnyshko _ , your grandpa is strong and he’ll be better in no time, please don’t cry Yura.” Viktor spoke as warm and calmly as he could, running his hand through Yuri’s hair softly to comfort him. 

 

“I want to go to  _ dedushka _ , papa. I want  _ dedushka. _ ” Yuri’s sobs were inconsolable for some time and he asked for the only one thing. 

 

It took another ten minutes for Yuri to calm down enough for Viktor to carry into his room, Makkachin whining at his younger master’s distress and followed along. Viktor placed his son on his bed and raised the comforter to cover him, rhythmically patting his shoulder until Yuri’s eyes were drooping. “I’ll stay with you tonight okay  _ moya zvezda? _ Give me a moment and I’ll be back.” Makkachin took his spot on the bed and snuggled closely to Yuri. 

 

Closing the door to Yuri’s room, he made his way to the living room to fetch his phone and then his room to make some phone calls, making sure to thank Maxim and his family’s help. He’d just finished updating Yakov on the situation and that he might take an early day off when he noticed the door to Yuri’s room was slightly shaking, Makkachin whining from inside and was scratching on the wood. 

 

Viktor pushed the door open, calling for his pet and saw. 

 

“ _ Vitya, what’s wrong? You’ve gone silent.”  _ Yakov’s voice continued through the phone. 

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

“Fuck.” 

 

“ _ Vitya, what-” _

 

He ran for the front door, “His shoes are gone, Yakov, he’s gone,” his voice a quiet panic. 

 

“ _ Who’s gone?”  _

 

“Yuri- Yuri’s gone.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hah.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri challenges fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: MENTIONS AND DESCRIPTION OF KIDNAPPING (JUST IN CASE)
> 
> A/N: It seems y'all are benefiting really well from my silly blunder and it seems important to say that chapter 10 has been updated since we all are concerned about giving 4 y.os homework, and that I did not re-update it's just I accidentally forget to post Chapter 10 before 11. Since I've finished Chapter 12, you can have it too. 
> 
> A reminder that Uni start again in a short moment, so I will have to juggle everything - but no worries, YoI and this series still has a tight grip on me, my mind, and soul. 
> 
> Unbeta'd <3

The chilled and sharp wind of the night swept through the streets of St. Petersburg and yet the streets are still alive with Friday night activities, among them a four year old walks with purpose in his steps. 

 

“ _ Dedushka is hurt? _ ” 

 

“ _ Yes, solnyshko, but don’t worry I will be fine. Remember Uncle Maxim and Ivanya? They will be helping dedushka until I’m all better.” _

 

_ Yuri frowned.  _

 

_ “But dedushka will be  _ there _ and we’re  _ here.  _ It’s not good!”  _

 

_ “Yuratchka-” _

 

_ “No, Yuri wants to go to dedushka!”  _

 

_ “Yuratchka,” Nikolai’s sternly called his name, “listen to me. I will be fine and I’m sorry I can’t come tomorrow, but I promise the moment my leg is healed I would go to you, da?”  _

 

_ Yuri nodded, clutching the phone and although he made no noise of acknowledgement Nikolai understood him, “Dedushka misses you a lot Yuratchka, I wish I could see you soon.”  _

 

_ “Does seeing me make you feel better dedushka?”  _

 

_ “Why of course, what silly question. Now, the doctor is coming so I have to go, good night solnyshko.”  _

 

_ “Good night.”  _

 

Yuri thought for a full five minutes and stood from his bed, jostling Makkachin who let out a low whine, he pulled over a jumper and coat, packed his tiger and pulled out some change he got for doing chores. His fluffy companion huffed at his ear and whined but Yuri shushed her, “ _ Shhhhh _ Makka, I’m going to see grandpapa so he feels better.” 

 

Makkachin replied with a disapproving whine only to get shushed again, next minute her youngest owner was out the room and the front door. 

 

The cold was disorienting for Yuri, making him shiver, but he had a purpose so he pulled his coat tighter and walked on. Several people had came up to him to ask where he’s going and remembered Papa’s word to not speak to strangers so he just shook his head and said  _ no thank you, bye _ politely. 

 

Yuri knows how to get to grandpa’s place, he just needs to get on two buses and voila, he’ll get to grandpapa. He’s done it before with Papa when the car broke down, so it should be easy. The aforementioned vehicle pulled up at the bus stop and he hopped on, passing some change to the driver that gave him a warm smile before patting his hair, “It’s okay sweetie, you can get on for free.” 

 

Yuri gave her his brightest smile and settled for a window seat. The next bus he has to take is at the city, so he watched the scenery go by until his stop. Yuri knows that Papa will be mad, because he wasn’t supposed to go anywhere alone but  _ dedushka _ was alone and he doesn’t like it so he’ll just apologise when he gets home. 

 

This is going to be easy.  

 

The eyes that are watching him says otherwise. 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Friday was supposed to be an easy day for Yuuri, Lilia had given him an approving look after morning practice and allowed him to have the rest of the days off, allowing him to rest and  _ get rid of that ungraceful thing under your eyes _ . The danseur said his thanks and spent his early afternoon catching up with his fellow Bolshoi colleagues and it was a relaxing affair - chatting with Sophie, a British ballerina who reminds him so much of Phichit, and Pyotr who’s been the most accepting of the foreign premier danseur. 

 

They were hanging out at a cafe near Winter Palace, only just enjoying the rare free time they have with each other when Yuuri’s phone rang with a call from Ivan. Both Sophie and Pyotr gave him worried looks as he picked up the call, when he was done the worried looks turned to frowns as they protest but Yuuri insisted he had to catch up with training anyway and Ivan was only giving him a chance to do so. 

Sophie groaned and Pyotr shook his head, but none could stop Yuuri from apologising and heading off to another one of Ivan’s ridiculous demands. The Japanese man was only glad he always kept extra practice clothes at the theatre. 

 

At the end of the day and late into the night, Yuuri finally steps back out into the St. Petersburg streets. Half an hour ago Lilia had given him a very stern call asking where he was and it was only then Ivan had let him off, Yuuri knows his instructor wouldn’t be happy with him. Yuuri walked on with frustration and got on in a worse mood when a random person knocked into him and then yelled at him for being asian, his friday was really … not looking so good. He had half a mind to pick up a drink or two but the idea of risking a hangover while having to wake up early tomorrow is not appealing. So there goes an idea. 

 

He had to catch a bus back to Lilia’s but he wasn’t really in the best mental position to go through public transport, but here he is. He was cold, his feet were sore, and his mind was still replaying Ivan’s uh- unkind encouragement earlier and he is just in a bad mood. He was only dressed in a jegging, a light winter coat, and sweatshirt, not overly affected and vain like his idol. . The danseur’s heavy eyelids almost made him miss a sight that made his blood curl. But they haven’t. 

 

Two men had just gotten off a bus following a small child, their eyes wild and body language nervous. Yuuri narrowed his eyes and he could feel his blood freeze at the sight of the child. The  _ child _ that is Yuri. That child that is his student. That child that is Yuri Plisetsky. And those men were closing in on  _ Yuri _ . 

 

The nearest crossing light flashed green and Yuuri ran. His legs burned as he kept going and chasing after Yuri, he followed them the best he can until they entered a quiet park.

 

“Fuck.”  _ How did he lose them so fast?  _

 

His breath was ragged in panic,  _ maybe it wasn’t really Yura, maybe he mistook the situation, I mean Viktor would never let Yura wander alone during the night  _ or  _ day  _ \- then there are noise to his left. Yuuri automatically crouched and felt his muscles taut with tension. 

 

“Come on sweet boy, uncle will get you where you want to go. Just follow us.” One man reached out his arm to Yuri,  _ confirmed _ Yuri, making the boy flinch away. The boy was visibly distraught and tears were building in his eyes.  

 

The other man circled behind his student, a hand holding a rectangular handkerchief slowly coming around. His eyes were focused on Yuri and the handkerchief has to be cloroform or a sort of sleep inducing chemical, this was kidnapping. Yuuri had seen enough and he grabbed a long branch from a pile of discarded foliage beside him, gripping it tight. His voice was calm and cold when he spoke, a direct contrast to the feelings in his chest. 

 

“Leave him alone.” 

 

“Well fuck you pretty boy, this has nothing to do with you.” The first man, who shall now be dubbed as Bastard 1, spat and snickered at him. He purposefully stood tall to intimidate with this larger build and unfortunately Yuuri wasn’t fazed. 

 

“Yuuri!” The boy’s recognition of him made the second man, Bastard 2, jumped to grab Yuri. Yuuri, fueled with today’s frustration and burned by the scene in front of him, snapped. 

 

With an experienced move, Yuuri brought the branch up and rushed in. His hand gripped the branch till his knuckles were white, the coarse texture of it scraping his palm while his mind was raging in the cage of his consciousness - the impact that came satisfied it. It was but a mere of a second and Bastard 1 suddenly had an enraged asian in his face, a blunt force came into his side as he doubled over in pain. Bastard 1 grabbed onto his knees to stay upright but the danseur was stepping into his next move, Yuuri re-angled the wood facing downwards and swung to hit the man in his chin, the sound of clacking teeth rang in the silence of the tension and the man fell back on the ground with a muffled thud, passed out. Riled up by the fall of his accomplice, Bastard 2 threw Yuri to the side and whipped out a pocket knife to point it at the danseur. At his students cry of pain, Yuuri turned to face the second man with an unfortunate luck. Any satisfaction he had just now was washed away and is replaced with a new white fury. 

 

Yuuri willed himself to be calm, any wrong move and the man might have an upper hand, aiming to be logical when his opponent is enraged - waiting for him to make a wrong move. Luckily he didn’t need to wait long before Bastard 2 ran to attack, arms wild and a horrible attempt at a battle cry. Yuuri sidestepped to the right, pivoted and rammed one end of the branch onto Bastard 2, the wood cracking with the pressure but held strong while his target stumbled. With this he had successfully placed himself between Yuri and the Bastards. The danseur watched as his opponent stagger in his steps, growling with harsh Russian words that instinctively made Yuuri want to cover Yuri’s young ears. The man rushed forward one more time to attack but Yuuri, in one well executed move, hit the man through an opening and Bastard 2 finally met the ground like his accomplice. The fight didn’t last long but Yuuri finds his breath coming in short puffs and his lungs screaming for air, his white knuckles finally let go of the branch. The soft whimpers of his student distracted him for one second as he missed Bastard 2 getting up and grabbed his knife and threw it at him, albeit weakly, it went through the air and the weapon managed to graze the danseur’s arm. Yuuri hissed in pain before he had the mind to kick the knife away from the hussle and more importantly from Yuri, then he turned his eyes to the stubborn attacker. The last thing Bastard 2 saw before darkness was a blurred figure and anger fueled brown eyes. 

 

The black haired man walked to pick up the offending pocket knife and folded it before making his way to a trembling four year old at the side. Yuri rammed into the danseur as soon as he lowered himself to reach him, almost throwing the man off balance but he held on and returned the embrace strongly. 

 

“It’s okay, Yura,” Yuuri murmured softly into the soft tuft of blonde hair,  “you’re safe now. You’re safe now. Yuuri is here. ” 

 

\---------

A minute later, the loud gasp of a passerby followed by several calls to the police took away the small moment of peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yooooooooohohoho. You're welcome really, that I am not as cruel and author as I wanted to be.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for all your support in the previous chapter! Here's another one as a token of gratitude <3
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual, be kind bebs

_ “Yuri- Yuri’s gone.” _

 

Yakov had immediately bolted out the door at his student’s stoic statement, yelling for a taxi at the nearest main street. He kept the line open with Viktor, worried for the slowly panicking man and trying to calm him down. 

 

“Vitya- Vitya listen it won’t help Yuri if you panic, so take deep breaths. We’ll find your boy.” 

 

Viktor obeyed silently and the slow intake and release of breath followed his words, Yakov tapped the driver’s seat signalling him to drive faster, his own feet tapping in impatience. “Do you know how long it’s been since he’s gone? He shouldn’t have gotten far.” 

 

“No- No, I was making phone calls, I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t see, didn’t hear, oh my god Yakov what do I do?” 

 

“Vitya enough,” Yakov sighed and resisted the urge to rub his temple, “You have a house phone don’t you? Call the police and report him missing first, I’ll be on this phone.” 

 

So he did, but they weren’t able to file a case because it hasn’t been 24 hours which caused Viktor to panic some more, fortunately by then the older man had arrived at his house and calmed him down. 

 

“I have to go, I have to go find him Yakov. He must be scared, he must be so worried, he might be lost. Yura is out  _ there _ alone!” The skater had a manic sheen in his eyes and his blood pressure must be through the roof, his hands pulling at his treasured platinum locks while Makkachin circled him in concern, whining in interval. 

 

“Don’t be stupid, you have to stay here in case he comes back. I’ll call Georgi and Mila, they’ll help look for Yura.” 

 

“Thank you Yakov.” 

 

\-----------------

 

Georgi arrived first and Mila followed not long after, both with concerned and panic looks. 

 

“I’ll check the streets, someone must have noticed a kid walking on his own.” The male skater offered, placing a comforting hand on Viktor’s shoulder before heading off, the door thudding close behind Georgi in his haste. Mila cast one look at Viktor and manhandled him to the sofa and had Yakov fetch him a cup of water, “I’ll go check nearby parks and the bus stops, you and Yakov stay put alright?” 

 

“I’ll go and look for Yura,” Yakov huffed pointing a look at Viktor, “after I know he won’t make himself bald.” Mila nodded, patted Makkachin and was out the door again, looking for her not nephew. The weather may have warmed in recent days but the night is still a north continent classic cold, making finding Yuri an ultimate priority if other dangers haven’t gotten to him.

 

The apartment was left silent as the two skater left as soon as they arrived, leaving Viktor and his former coach to mull over Yuri’s disappearance. Yakov had managed to keep Viktor’s claw hands away from his hair and coaxed it to pet Makkachin’s fur instead, the poodle gladly providing comfort for her master. 

 

“Do you know where he might have gone? Did he say anything earlier, anything at all?” Yakov asked. 

 

Viktor huffed into thought and suddenly sat straight, eyes wide, “He- well, you know Nikolai hurt himself and he- do you think, do you think Yuri…” 

 

Yakov hummed, contemplating the idea and nodded, “I think he might have the idea, if that’s the case then we can find him faster, call Geor-” 

 

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Viktor’s phone, the caller was unfamiliar so he picked up in caution. “Mr. Viktor Nikiforov?”

 

_ This is the second time someone asked me that tonight.  _

 

“We are calling from St. Petersburg Police Station to inform you that we have your son, Yuri Plisetsky, with us at the station. If you can come down as soon as possible that will be great.” 

 

“You- Yuri he- he’s found? He’s there? How? Where was he?” 

 

Viktor had scrambled to grab at his keys and wallet before the police officer had finished his sentence and Yakov who had listened in made sure the man doesn’t fall in his haste. The older man grabbed onto Makkachin to refrain him from jumping all about as he watched Viktor still on the phone, nodding and frowning at the other line. Yakov passed Viktor his shoes before moving to put on his own pair when he was startled by his former skater’s loud exclamation,

 

“What do you mean he was kidnapped!” 

 

“No I don’t care he wasn’t really kidnapped, I want to know how the fu-” 

 

“I- No! Yes, yes I understand... I will head over now.” 

 

A terse pause.

 

“ Thank you.” 

 

“Come on Vitya, no time to lose.” 

 

\------------------------------------

 

Viktor drove them both to the station near mid-town, rushing through several red lights and breaking at least 2 traffic rules per intersection as he stepped on the gas. Yakov is considered a man with strong constitution but even he clutched at the door and his seat belt tightly while his long considered son drove frantically in an early weekend traffic, just barely missing a collision or two. The car screeched into the police station’s parking lot and the both of them were out and into the building without missing a breath, Viktor already calling for Yuri before his first step in. 

 

The officers parted way as their Russian legend tore through the floor until a sergeant directed him to a room at the back, Viktor noticed it was the infirmary and Yakov frowned in concern. “Y-Yuri, my son, is he-” 

 

The officer shook her head and raised a calming hand, “No, Mr Nikiforov, as we informed you your son is well and healthy. His saviour on the other other hand needed a few stitches. You may enter if you’d like.” The door swung open easily as she turned the handle and they made their way inside. 

 

The bright fluorescent light in the infirmary disoriented the two man and after two seconds of readjustment, Viktor suddenly has his arms full of a 4 year old, “Papa!” 

 

Viktor latched on to his son as tightly as he could, squeezing him to his chest closely not wanting for him to leave for even another second and breathing in the familiar soft scent that is Yuri. He can feel himself starting to tear up when he realised Yuri had a tight hold on the back his shirt, Yuri had nuzzled into the crook of his neck with the suspicion of a tiny sniffle and that was the only thing that mattered. He could feel Yakov moving around them and placing a strong hand on his head, offering comfort and assurance and he took it in as well. Viktor had started whispering assurances to Yuri softly, rocking back and forth on his haunches, still on the floor but he didn’t care. No one else seemed to care as well as they stayed there for over five minutes while Yakov spoke to the officer, a privacy curtain rustled open and out came Yuri’s benefactor. 

 

“Yuuri?!” 

 

Viktor snapped his head up and true enough the danseur was standing next to who seems to be the doctor, looking anxious, his hair was slicked back through slightly disheveled and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. The former skater could feel his breath hitch, watching as the beautiful man rubbed his neck and a soft blush working its way up to his soft cheeks, it took Viktor another minute to actually question why the man was there. 

 

Yakov, on the other hand, was less distracted. The older man narrowed his eyes on the danseur’s bandaged arm and raked his eyes all over the young man, “What happened? How did you get here?” And more importantly, “Does Lilia know you’re here?” At Yuuri’s sheepish smile Yakov would guess that was a no. 

 

“May I presume you know each other?” Yakov, Yuri and Viktor nodded. 

 

“Well, Mr Katsuki here have done you a great deed today, he found your son and stopped a kidnapping attempt,” the doctor mentioned as he went through the chart in his hands, checking things off and writing an unreadable sentence. Yakov narrowed his eyes further at the danseur while Viktor looked at Yuuri in silence with unveiled awe and gratitude, his eyes sparkling and slightly misty as Yuuri stuttered an explanation. 

 

“It was- It was honestly a coincidence that I saw Yurio- uh Yura and I couldn’t just ignore it, so uh … it was just really nothing.” 

“You got yourself hurt and that’s not nothing, did you think how Lilia will react to that?” Yuuri managed to look a bit chastised and Yuri had to hit Yakov’s feet. Yakov cleared his throat, chastised himself, “I mean no offense, but you are an athlete yourself and your body’s health and safety should be a priority in anything you do. I’m glad you’re not more hurt than you are now… also, thank you. If we haven’t said that yet.” He looked pointedly at Viktor who was still an unmoving figure on the floor. 

 

Said person jumped up to his feet and threw himself onto the danseur, arms wound tight around the slender shoulder as Yuuri squeaked into his chest, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, I will never ever stop being grateful to you for finding and saving him. He is too important for me to lose so thank you. Thank you,” Viktor’s breath was close, right next to Yuuri’s red and hot ear but he was more focused on the tight hold the Russian legend had on him, it was a warm and whole and the best hug Yuuri had had for a long time. With a bravery he dragged up from somewhere, Yuuri returned the hug and patted Viktor’s back comfortingly, “I know he is, because he is important to me too. So thank you for your gratitude and you’re welcome.” 

 

Viktor pulled away from the embrace first to look at Yuuri’s face, awe and admiration clear on his face making the danseur fall into confusion. What little moment they had to themselves was dragged away from them by Yuri’s excited recollection of Yuuri’s heroic action just an hour earlier. Viktor moved to bring Yuri up to rest on his waist and his eyebrows stay raised at his son’s story, Yakov’s were similarly raised. 

 

“You… can fight?” Yakov’s gruff voice hardly hiding his interest. 

 

Yuuri shrugged with a little smile, “Yakov-san did say my body’s safety is a priority.”

  
Viktor laughed then and there. Loud and bright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's 1.30AM as I am posting this, so Safety First amirite?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilia instills fear on a number of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: RIP in pieces Yuuri. 
> 
> It’s another hard one to write because I want to write a good Lilia, but I’m afraid I haven’t got it quite right. AND BOI SOMEONE DREW VICTUURI [ART](http://lamenart.tumblr.com/post/158291983770/it-has-been-a-while-since-last-time-rl-has-been) WHILE THINKING ABOUT THIS FIC I AM SO SHOOK RIGHT NOW (UPDATED LINK!)
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual lads and lasses

After the police had finished briefing Viktor and Yakov on the incident and after the charges had been decided, the both of them had been allowed to see the two men that tried to kidnap Yuri while the boy and his saviour waited outside - they were both amazed and slightly worried at what awaited them. Yakov made a note to never get on the danseur’s bad side if this is what he can do with a measly broken branch, you can always count on Lilia to choose a secretly manic student, he thought.

 

When they returned to the main floor, as if the mere thought of it summoned the person,  Yakov and Yuuri had a sharp shiver down their spine and both looked at each other before the door into the police station opened with an ominous hiss and sharp heels clicked and clacked on the tiled floor. A number of people stared as the figure clad in a trademarked mustard yellow coat entered the building, some moving out of the way in fear of getting in the line of the figure’s displeasure. When Lilia had spotted them at a desk, nestled at the back of the floor, her icy glare and burning rage were directed at the collection of men and child.

 

“ _What_ ,” never had a syllable sounded so threatening to Yuuri’s ears, “in the world happened?”

 

There was silence and a harshly swallowed gulp as the intimidating woman stared down every single one of them including the unfortunate police officer , the only one unaffected was Yuri. The boy jumped from Yuuri’s laps and launched himself to hug Lilia’s midriff, “Lilia!”, snuggling in as the older woman wound an arm around him protectively. Lilia’s lips visibly thinned as she knelt down and ran her hands on Yuri to make sure he was safe as Viktor the recount of the earlier incident, the man winced as Lilia aimed a sharp glare at him demanding _why was I not informed in the first place and had to find out from the police?!_ Yuuri stepped in to calm the prima with a small smile, forgetting his wounded arm and stopped in his tracks when Lilia’s hand reached out to grab his arm.

 

“What is _this_?” She hissed.

 

Yuuri could feel his blood freezing, but he answered as best as he can, “I uh- I accidentally got hurt when I tried to uh...fight because they were trying to take Yuri.”

 

“And why were you out so late? Where are Sophie and Pyotr?”

 

“They uh…” Yuuri fidgeted under the steel gaze, not really wanting to worry Lilia further about Ivan, but she’ll know eventually, “I had to leave earlier because Ivan wanted me to train at the studio.”

 

Lilia continued to stare at him for a short moment, until eventually her gaze softened slightly, “We will have to talk about this,” Lilia stated letting go of Yuuri’s arm slowly, “Take the next three days off to rest your arm, no training, no classes. After that we’ll reassess your condition,” Yuuri nodded his understanding, cradling his arm. Meanwhile Viktor and Yakov looked nervous at the side as if waiting for the storm to tear through them, fortunately, Lilia had yet to be regaled with the story of Yuuri’s heroics of the day and Yuri had dragged her attention on his retelling.  

 

While the ex-prima is distracted, the former Russian champion pulled Yuuri to the safety of the sides as Lilia signed the required forms as Yuuri’s emergency contact while Yuri continued to regale her with his story, “Will you be alright? I am really sorry you are hurt because of my fault.”

 

“I’ll be fine Viktor, thank you. It’s just a small cut, so it shouldn’t be a bother,” Yuuri’s cheeks flushed softly at the sincere concern and met steel blue eyes with assurance, “and for the record it wasn’t your fault. This was an accident no one could have stopped so don’t be too hard on yourself or on Yura, he is only learning after all.”

 

“Hopefully he’s got this lesson learned, I don’t have a strong heart for this.”

 

Yuuri laughed at Viktor’s pout and the man huffed his bangs from his eyes, but it was nice to know for both of them that the incident is now over. Yakov came to Yuuri’s side and pet his unhurt arm, “I thank you again son, we’re lucky you were there at the nick of time.” Yuuri nodded at his gratitude, taking the older man’s hand in his, “I’m glad I was there too. To lose Yuri will be devastating.”

 

Eventually, Lilia finished the paperworks and Yuri his story so they moved to part ways as it was ridiculously late - though not before Lilia gave Viktor a piece of her mind for being so careless. Realizing that they were leaving separately - Lilia with Yuuri to her mansion of a house while Yuri with his father and Yakov - Yuri frowned and latched himself to Yuuri’s legs, whining with all his might, “No! I want Yuuri to come home!”

 

Lilia rubbed her temple and Yakov made the similar motion of a face palm, meanwhile Viktor knelt by Yuuri’s other leg to persuade his son, “Yuratchka, come on now. Yuuri is tired from the day, you have to let him rest at home. Yura doesn’t want Yuuri to get sick do you?” The boy shook his head, blonde hair swishing left and right at the motion, “Then you have to let him go Yura.”

 

“No! Yuuri can sleep in my room instead,” he declared gazing up at his ballet instructor, “I promise you can have the bed! It’s nice and soft and comfy, Yuuri will like it!”

 

Yuuri chuckled as he pet Yuri’s hair, “I’m sure it is Yura, but Lilia also gave me a soft and comfy bed so you can sleep in yours sweetie.” Yuri continued to shake his head and refused to release his legs, Yuuri and Viktor looked up to ask help from their respective mentors and both simply raised they eyebrows at them, _deal with it yourself_  it seemed to say, _but make it quick_.

 

“Yuuri, please come home with me and papa!”

 

The danseur clenched his heart, _shit_ . “Yura,” he started but the boy’s very very very effective pair of puppy eyes are at full power directed at him, Yuuri is a very weak man, “I can’t- like, really can’t go home with you but how about this, since I can’t teach the class tomorrow, maybe we can meet somewhere else?” This time, Yuuri can feel another pair of puppy eyes directed at him, he looked to the man beside Yuri and sure enough Viktor was looking straight at him like the he was humanity’s last hope. _What?_ Also, _shit_.

 

“Will you? Will you meet us tomorrow?” The Russian man had risen from next to Yuri and grabbed Yuuri’s hands himself, “Oh yes, will you please meet us tomorrow? I need to repay you for saving Yuratchka, let me treat you to lunch!”

 

 _Shit_.

 

_Did he mention he was a weak man?_

 

“I uh- no, you don’t have to bother-”

 

“No, you have to! You’re not coming home with me, so you have to meet me tomorrow!” The child at his leg insisted, his father nodding eagerly in agreement. “Yes, you have to Yuuri, please? For us?”

 

Yuuri is only a man, he is only a weak man and no matter what strength he had before completely melted away at the vicious attack from two pairs of hopeful and shining eyes. He’s not sure further exposure is healthy for his sanity.

 

* * *

 

They were finally able to separate ways after Yuri made him pinky promise three times like usual and Yuuri hugged the child for a full minute, Yakov pat his back warmly and Viktor sent him a quick wink before they disappeared into their car. Yuuri’s heart rate was extremely unstable after that. Lilia made sure to look him over one more time before they entered to car to ascertain he wasn’t hurt anywhere else, after she was satisfied they went on their way home. In the comfort of the seat’s plush interior, Yuuri’s eyelids turned heavy and it became an effort to keep them open, he snapped them open when his mentor called his name, “Sleep Yuuri,” she said softly while her eyes stayed on the road, “I’ll wake you up when we arrive.”

  
Yuuri mumbled his gratitude incoherently and finally let the soft thrumming of the car send him to sleep. Lilia smiled in her driver’s seat but let her mind focus on planning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your love, kudos, and comments! Hope you enjoyed Lilia breathing down everyone's neck.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilia have Yuuri feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’ve just written a whole chapter about Lilia and Yuuri. They are like Yakov and Viktor, but less insanity on both sides (maybe). 
> 
> Also ISU Junior Worlds Figure Skating took over my time sooooooo, sorry? 
> 
> Unbeta’d <3

The previous night’s incident melted away into the break of day, shades of purple and pink with a tint of dawn shine at the edges of the sky, bringing color to the thick grey cloud that covered the night. Yuuri was still asleep, down with exhaustion from the unnecessary training he had yesterday and the night literally fighting crime. The memory made her sigh as she clutched her coat closer to her body when she left the warmth of the house, Lilia made her way to the car parked on the driveway and turned on the ignition. She has an appointment this morning to fix the jutting thorn on her student’s side. 

 

The grand architecture of the theatre greeted her in the early morning light, its grand staircase and decorated pillars both a familiar and comforting sight for the ex-prima, she had spent many numbers of days and years in this very building toiling away day and night to be who she is now. Today, she is here to protect what is the future of her legacy before anyone ruins him beyond repair. Lilia entered the Bolshoi and greeted the woman waiting for her at the lobby, Ekaterina Gordisyeva is an executive in the Ballet and Opera Department and also a dear old friend, “Katya, good to see you.” 

 

“Lia, good to see you too. How is your protégé?” Ekaterina nodded her greeting before giving Lilia a quick hug. Ekaterina is considered small compared to Lilia, she was at least a foot shorter than the ex-prima but nevertheless as sharp and strict as Lilia ever was, she is also well-known in the Bolshoi as a person to never mess with. 

 

“Not as well as I wanted, which is why you are here Katya, you know that.” 

 

A frown marred Ekaterina’s sharp features, “Yes, indeed. It’s Ivan isn’t it?” Lilia nodded in confirmation, their clicking heels echoed through the silent corridors as they made their way to Ekaterina’s office. The room was well lit and decorated, award certificates and several trophies line the minimalist shelving on one side and a painting of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake scene sit comfortably on the other. The owner of the room motioned for Lilia to take a seat and she settled onto a plush two seater sofa while Ekaterina on an armchair, “Tell me,” she said, so Lilia did.  

 

By the end of Lilia’s explanation, her friend had another frown on her face as she shook her head, “Oh Lilia, I’m sorry, I’m afraid a part of that may have been my fault,” Ekaterina sighed and poured two glasses of water from a side table, “Ivan came to me after Yuuri was confirmed as a premier in training to ask permission to give Yuuri… guidance as he called it as an experienced premier danseur. I agreed to it on the condition that he consult with you and Yuuri about the schedules.” 

 

The ex-prima frowned in return, “This has never happened.” 

 

“I figured, yes.” 

 

“Yuuri told me Ivan was training him under the request of the Bolshoi and that you had approved it, I see in a way you have.” Ekaterina took a sip of water, eyes calculating now. 

 

“Ivan broke my one condition, it may not be written on paper but my words are not to be taken lightly. This will have consequences, I can promise.” 

 

Lilia nodded in acknowledgement, “Thank you but I ask you to be discreet about this, my student he… is not best with too much attention off the stage but I will not tolerate someone else taking over my protégé’s training without my permission and I will not have him overworked by an irresponsible ass.” Ekaterina’s eyebrows rose to new heights at Lilia’s words, she was known to have a sharp tongue but never one to use names, it simply showed how this had affected her. 

 

“I understand.” 

 

Both woman sat long enough to finish their water, then Lilia left Ekaterina to her day as she returned home to a fully cooked breakfast. She entered the house following the strong aroma of brewed beverage and found Yuuri standing behind the kitchen island, pouring her cup of tea, he looked up and smiled brightly, “Welcome home Lilia,” he greeted, “Would you like some breakfast?” 

 

She took this child in during his lowest times as a danseur and now that he is climbing for the peak again, she will make sure that his path is paved to fly. 

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri woke up to the nagging ring of the alarm, he blinked awake slowly to take in the surroundings and found his entire body to ache, especially his arm and legs. The latter felt like it was burning, which makes sense considering the training he had yesterday. Yuuri blinked his eyes again several times to make sure that the sunlight pouring into his bedroom was not… wrong, he reached for his phone that had yet to stop ringing and saw the time stating it was late morning. He must have slept through the  _ two _ other alarms he had on. Figuring that Lilia must be waiting for him to wake up, he grudgingly placed his heavy feet on the floor and dragged himself to the en suite to freshen up. 

 

“Huh,” surprisingly Lilia was not anywhere around the house when Yuuri made his way downstairs, the car on the driveway was gone so he figured Lilia had gone out.  _ This early? _ Lilia had never been one to eat outside for breakfast, so he figured he could prepare breakfast anyway. His mentor had expressed her like of the Japanese cuisine Yuuri made, so Yuuri had lightly grilled the  _ Saba _ he picked up recently, tossed an easy vinaigrette salad, and a simple  _ miso _ soup with silken tofu. Some may consider it a heavy meal for breakfast, but it provides sufficient energy for the day with most of the training they do, Lilia sometimes joins him in practice at her studio when she feels like it and the typical yogurt and berries won’t last anyone. No way is Yuuri going to let his most motherlike figure in this country to go without sufficient nutrition. 

 

Yuuri had just finished brewing a pot of tea when the front door opened and Lilia soon entered the kitchen, dressed as perfect as she always is. “Welcome home Lilia, would you like some breakfast?” he smiled in greeting, at her nod of confirmation Yuuri began to plate up the dining table with the dishes before scooping up cooked rice into a bowl, Lilia had been learning how to use chopsticks properly so it helped. His mentor helped bringing the utensils to the table and soon they both sat down to dig in. 

 

It was a few minutes into breakfast that Lilia spoke, “You should have slept longer Yuuri, your body needs to heal. It is-” 

 

“The most important thing to an athlete,” he finished with a smile, “Yes, I know. Yakov has said the same thing,” boldly waggling his eyebrows at the ex-prima. Lilia’s lip thinned and she cleared her throat to the side, a small sign that she was holding in her laugh as Yuuri chuckled, but quickly recollected herself. 

 

“Well then you should have known better,” she raised her soup bowl to her lips, tasting the creamy yet clear broth bringing warmth to her, “I do not want to have a repeat of yesterday ever again, do you understand?” 

 

“Yes, madame.” 

 

They fell into silence as both enjoyed breakfast when Lilia’s maine coon, Edgar, meowed at the leg of Yuuri’s chair asking for a bite of fish. Yuuri denied the feline with a shake of his head and the cat lifted his face with a huff of indignation, moving to curl around Lilia’s legs instead, purring for attention. The corner of the ex-prima’s lips lifted only just but it was a smile, Edgar had been overly fond of Yuuri ever since he started living with her and having the attention back was not a bad thing. Breakfast ended with Edgar meowing every so often to ask for scraps while Yuuri cleaned up, despite having the grace and reflexes of a danseur Yuuri nearly tripped three times clearing the table. 

 

Lilia stayed by the kitchen island to help herself to some more tea, watching Yuuri hum to himself with Edgar wrapped around his leg and thought about how much Viktor would be willing to pay to see this himself,  _ god knows he’s interested. _

 

“Yuuri,” she called, her tone made the young man stop in his activities and turned to meet her eyes, “The Bolshoi have returned your private training to me alone and only train with the Bolshoi according to the original schedule, you will no longer train with Ivan. Understood?” 

 

The danseur’s brown eyes grew in surprise, a plate nearly slipping past his fingers, “I- why? Did something happen?” 

 

“No, nothing did,” Lilia took a sip and approved of her decision to keep things low, “I was in a meeting with Madame Gordisyeva this morning and was informed Ivan will no longer train you in private, he will have… other matters to attend.” Lilia could see both tension and relief reflected from her protégé, “I mean it Yuuri, I do not want you to overwork yourself and have Pyotr carry you home like last time.”  

 

Yuuri was visibly embarrassed at the memory and quickly agreed, resuming the washing up until Lilia spoke again, “So, let’s talk about your  _ date _ with Vitya.” 

  
This time the plate did fall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know Lilia is usually a stoic figure, but looking at how she was with Yurio in the last few episodes and scene with them eating Katsudon pirozhki I reckon she is a secret cool mom/aunt at the least. 
> 
> So… Ivan?


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken so long!!! It's like the last chapter again, the ISU Worlds was on and I may have drunken a bit too much vodka in the span of 5 days... Anyway! Please have some fluff for all your support and lovely comments. 
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual

The Kirov Park was quite crowded on a late Saturday morning, the weather was noticeably good for the last few days, transitioning from late spring to summer, and people are taking advantage of the good conditions. Yuuri, as a fellow visitor of the park, sits on one of the park benches with his ears red and his face in his hands thinking,  _ what exactly am I doing here?  _

 

After Yuuri has saved the plate he dropped when he did the dishes, he had tried to explain to Lilia that  _ no it’s not a date, please it must be a misunderstanding _ to no avail as the ex-prima looked at him with an unimpressed expression. The danseur has then tried to change the topic when his phone made a  _ ping _ , lighting up with a message from an unknown number. 

 

[unknown number]  

Hello, good morning! It’s Viktor here- 

 

Yuuri had barely finished reading the first sentence of the message when his phone jumped to life in an barrage of vibrations and pop music. He excused himself sheepishly from Lilia who was as surprised as he is at the sudden noise and stepped out onto the back porch beside the kitchen, he pressed on the accept button when he thinks the phone might just jump out of his hand in impatience. 

 

“Hello?” 

 

“Yuuri! Good morning! This is Viktor and I couldn’t help but call because I didn’t know if you received my text and I really just wanted to-” The Russian champion’s voice faded to a stop when Yuuri laughed into the receiver, he had to stop himself the next second though he wasn’t doing that as well as he thought. 

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just- Your text just arrived a minute ago I didn’t have the time to finish reading it and the next thing you’re already calling me…” 

 

“Are- Are you laughing?” 

 

Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from finding the hilarity at the impatience of a grown man, so yes,  _ yes _ he’s laughing. “I’m sorry Viktor, I didn’t mean to laugh at you! I-” 

 

“No!” The man on the other line cleared his throat and a few more seconds to respond, “I uh- mean no, please continue laughing for all that matters,” A deep breath, “ I love the sound of your laughter.”  

 

Yuuri held his breath to process the words and the listless way Viktor had said it while his complexion quickly turned apple red and cheeks burning like he just drank a whole bottle of vodka. The danseur wanted to speak, he wanted to say that  _ you really shouldn’t be saying things like that all of the sudden _ and the likes of  _ what do you mean you like my laugh? I like _ your  _ laugh _ , but all that came out was a series of stutters and incoherent human noises. Speech conditions on the other line was less than coherent as well. 

 

Eventually, the two bumbling adults regained their composure to actually have a conversation. “So uh- you see, it’s going the be clear and warmer today so I was thinking of bringing Yuri to Kirov Park for lunch, there’s a food cart nearby that sells amazing pirozhkis. What do you think?” 

 

“That sounds lovely, I’m sorry I didn’t prepare food as I promised…” 

 

There was a sharp intake of breath and the Russian man launched into a mission to defend Yuuri from himself, “No no no no no, don’t say that, no not at all! You’ve already done way too much for us, let us spoil you instead.” The danseur barely replied before Viktor spoke to tell him the time and area to meet at, Yuuri voiced his acknowledgement and they hung up soon after. 

 

Lilia was still giving him the mildly concealed knowing look when Yuuri returned to the house. 

 

* * *

 

Back at the park bench, Yuuri made himself breath deep and slow as he tried to calm his blazing cheeks and thumping heart. A sliver of sunlight shone directly on Yuuri’s eyes and he had to squint behind his glasses, holding up his hand to shield his eyes from the light. That was when he didn’t notice a large brown blur running straight at him and knocking him off the bench with a loud  _ Boof! _ Knocking the air out of him and giving him a strange sense of deja vu.  

 

The Japanese man looked up to find soft brown fur in his hands and a wet sloppy tongue having a go at his entire face. “Vicchan?!” Yuuri called in surprise, no it can’t be since Vicchan is a mini poodle, this is not Japan, and Vicchan has passed away, so it must be…

 

“Makkachin!” At the call of her name, the brown poodle barked in acknowledgement before finally stopping her kissing mission on the danseur and moved to sit in front of him instead. Viktor came running to them with Yuri, who was laughing, and apologised again like when they first met. “Makka, how many times do I have to tell you not to jump on people like that! I’m so sorry Yuuri, she’s not usually this way.” 

 

Yuuri accepted the apology as he petted the poodle’s head, “It’s okay, I’m fine with it. It’s a very good way to go.” He looked up with a tiny grin and found Viktor staring at him,  _ did he suddenly grow a second head?  _ Yuri launched himself into the danseur’s arms before Yuuri could ask if anything was wrong and was distracted with an armful of a four year old, “Yuuri, I missed you so much!”  

 

Yuuri’s heart swell at the genuine statement and wrapped his arms around Yuri in an embrace, “We met yesterday Yura,” he said between a laugh, “but I missed you too. How are you feeling?” The tone turned serious when the danseur pulled them apart slightly to check on his student. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

 

Viktor had silently plopped down on the ground beside them with Makkachin, watching as Yuri shook his head slightly, blonde hair swishing with the movement, “No it doesn’t hurt anywhere, but Grandpa Yakov was  _ soooooooooo _ angry last night and he said if I don’t be a good boy I can’t go to the rink or practice ballet anymore!” 

 

“Oh dear, that’s not good. What did you do then?” 

 

“I apologised, like Papa taught me too and promised to be a good boy so Grandpa yakov said I can train again!” The grin the four year old wore in pride brought another smile to Yuuri and Viktor while they let the child recount everything that happened after they got home including getting an indulgent cup of hot chocolate and sleeping over with Viktor and Makkachin. Yakov had taken Viktor’s room for the night apparently and Makkachin was a better cuddler than Viktor,  _ good to know _ Yuuri said and Viktor was turning red for unknown reasons by the side. The Russian man cleared his throat in a moment of embarrassment, “Shall we head for lunch now? The pirozhki cart is deeper into the park where there’s a fountain.” 

 

At the sound of his favorite food, Yuri had jumped to a stand and hurriedly pulled at both Yuuri and his father’s hands making them scramble to obey the demands of a hungry boy, “Hurry!” Both adults chuckled and hurried after Yuri with Makkachin on their heels, feeling the pull of joy with every step taken and every glances stolen. Yuuri could feel his cheeks flush once again but pushed it down with every effort in his being while Viktor continued to shine only the way he could, brightly. 

 

When they finally arrived at the cart, the vendor took one look at them; throwing a knowing look at Viktor and then proceeded to shove a bag of the fried pastries into his hands and waved them away. Yuuri tilted his head in confusion while the man refused any payment and giving him a quick pat of good luck, muttering something close to, “Vitya is a good boy.” 

  
Viktor on the other hand was melting into a puddle of mess. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, Vitya is a good boy. A good boy like Makkachin.
> 
> Edited: I kept referring to Makka in different pronouns, the big floof is a lady imo!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The calm continues as pirozhki helps bring two men together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet friend had a horrendous day with dicks and bastards on the internet today, insulting and attacking her with horrible slurs because she posted a risque art. Here's a PSA dear readers, if you don't like someone's art/creation/story simply keep your mouth and your opinion to yourself and learn to protect yourself from things you don't like. Ban, mute, or blacklist a tag or an artist you don't like but DON'T YOU EVER DARE message them for the sole purpose of insulting them and their creation because you do not have the right over them, over what they make in their OWN free time and still willing to share it with you without a pay wall. PLEASE RESPECT ALL CONTENT CREATORS IN ANY FANDOM OR FIELD. 
> 
> THANK YOU. 
> 
> I hope you feel well soon, internet friend, I finished this as fast as I could so this one's for you <3

The sun was shining most brightly on the Saturday morning, the best weather he’s ever had in his life to be out meeting the most beautiful person he’s ever seen with his precious son and loyal companion by his side. Viktor would be waxing poetry and composing sonnets at how the two Yuris are so perfect and precious playing and bantering in the late morning St. Petersburg sun, hair slightly tousled from Makkachin’s attack and smiles that put the stars to shame. Viktor is a weak  _ weak _ man. After a handful of minutes on the warm patch of grass, the skater led them to the pirozhki cart in the park for lunch, owned by Tiebor, a man Viktor consider as highly as Yakov. 

 

Tiebor had sold pirozhki there since Viktor was but a small little thing and continued to be an unexpected figure of support as he grew up into the Living Legend of the skating world, always welcoming him with a warm smile and a paper bag filled with warm pirozhki, listening to the ramblings of a child, a teenager, and adult through good and bad times. The amount of time Viktor wandered in to Kirov Park just to seek warm comfort beyond the world of ice and skating was uncountable and Tiebor never failed to be there. 

 

The older man had stopped accepting payment from him long ago, but while Yuuri was still confused at why the vendor refuses to accept payment for the pirozhki or even why he had to tell Yuuri that Viktor was a good person, he took the chance to drag the danseur away to a the water fountain in the middle of the park clearing. Yuri had stayed chattering with Tiebor with Makkachin, possibly trying to wrangle some sweets or treats respectively from the man. Viktor couldn’t help the flush of embarrassment when his old friend had shot him a knowing look, he hasn’t known Viktor this long for nothing and his comments just now made it feel like Viktor brought Yuuri over to meet the parents, he just couldn’t help turning red at the implication. 

 

“I, uh- so Viktor, did you know the man then? The one selling the pirozhki?” 

 

Yuuri’s sudden word surprised Viktor, making him jump just the slightest, “Ah yes! He has been a good friend since I was a child, I often come here when I wanted a place to escape to and Tiebor is always here to offer a smile.” The danseur smiled at that, a flash of wistfulness and perhaps nostalgia. 

 

“I think I know what you mean, back in Japan my old ballet teacher had always been a support of warm smiles and willing ears when I needed them.” Viktor watched as Yuuri had a far away look on his face, a soft smile hang on his equally soft lips. Viktor takes a deep breath, furiously trying to keep his heartbeat from getting too loud beneath his calm and quelling the need to run his hand through the danseur’s soft hair. “You must miss them then,” he rasped out. 

 

“Yes, Minako-sensei - my ballet teacher that is - calls from time to time with my family, so we keep in contact still.” 

 

Viktor hummed, watching Yuuri for as long as he can trying to read into this beautiful man. Next minute, Yuri came running to them with another paper bag, possibly filled with more pirozhki, “Papa look!” The boy crashed into Viktor’s outstretched arms rambling on and on about the sweet pirozhki Tiebor gave him and anything and everything. 

 

Yuuri turned to him with an excited smile, holding out the bag he was given, “Shall we have lunch then?” Viktor took in the smile and nodded, reaching in for a pastry, he bit into it and the warmth and flavor of the beef mince filling spread across his tongue with each mouthful, the sharp pepper and the lingering fragrance of dill a comfort to his growing hunger. He had hardly fought the moan of appreciation as he reached for a second pastry when his sight was filled with a blushing danseur, his own pastry only halfway to his mouth. The Russian’s eyesight zoomed on the other man’s lips and he barely breathed out his words, “The meat pirozhki is really good,” a swallow, “it’s one of my favorites.” 

 

Bright brown eyes blinked at him shyly before its owner took a bite into the fried pastry, in a snap the Japanese man’s features brightened and moaned his approval of the food. Yuuri placed a surprised hand on his lips at the flavors that reached his palettes, “Viktor, this is amazing!” The danseur looked at the pastry in his hand with a sudden look of envy, “Oh, my pirozhki could never compare.” 

 

“No! I mean, I couldn’t compare it but I’m sure it’s great too!” There was a quick silence before Yuuri laughed at Viktor’s attempt to defend his pirozhki, a sound that made Yuri and Makkachin to sit still to listen. “Lilia had to help me with the dough at my first attempt, but thank you Viktor. I’ll work hard to make them next time, but these are really good.” He said, raising the half eaten pastry. Yuri nodded to his teacher’s words and shoved his jam filled pirozhki to him excitedly, “You can try mine Yuuri!” 

 

Viktor watched as his son tried to climb and sit on the fountain’s base between him and Yuuri, struggling with his short legs but succeeded a minute later, he was too busy documenting to help. Yuuri smiled softly at their antics and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away a blob of jam from Yuri’s mouth, “Thank you Yurio- I mean Yura, yes. I’d love to try it.” 

 

The odd name didn’t slip past Viktor, he tilted his head to the side in curiosity, “What does  _ Yurio _ mean? I’ve heard you said it before, is it a nickname?” The danseur visibly hesitated with his hand frozen on Yuri’s face, “I’m so sorry, it’s a nickname my best friend came up for Yura because he keeps confusing it with my name. I tried telling him to use Yura instead, but he kept using Yurio and it just stuck to me as well, oh and I’m sorry I talked about Yura to a stranger!” 

 

Viktor laughed and raised his hands to placate Yuuri, who seems close to starting an apology marathon, “No, please, don’t apologise! Yurio is such a cute name, don’t you think Yuratchka?” Yuri tilted his head sideways and shrugged, “See? And I’m glad to hear Yuratchka left such an impression for you to talk about him to your best friend, hope you didn’t leave me out,” Viktor added a wink at the end to lighten the mood. 

 

Yuuri’s face that had turned pale while apologising did a 180 degree and rose in shade to bright pink,  _ I need to do that more often _ , he thinks. The man stuttered for a few seconds before completely avoiding his eyes and stared at his hands, his son frowned and glared at him, “Papa, we talked about this  _ soooo _ many times,” disapproval strong in his tone. Yuuri looked up at that and an amused smile hung on his lips, he gave Yuri a chuckle and a pat to the head, “Thank you Yuri, can i have a bite now?” 

 

Viktor’s phone had never been out so fast - aside from the time Yuri called him Papa for the first time - and the camera app worked with fast consecutive clicks, capturing the precious scene in the skater’s phone. He noticed that the Japanese man suddenly looked uncomfortable, mouth still full with jam pirozhki, “Yuuri?” 

 

“I- I’m sorry, I’m just not used to people taking photo of me.” 

 

_ Shit, no _ . 

 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I should have asked I didn’t mean to make you-” 

 

Yuuri shook his head slightly and his soft smile returned to his face, “It’s fine Viktor, if it’s for you and Yuri. Would you send the photo to me later?” 

 

Viktor breathed a sigh of relief and glee as the danseur had just given him a big pass to contact him again, he agreed quickly, “Of course, Yuuri! You and Yura look absolutely adorable, I couldn’t help myself.” The danseur smiled slightly and said something softly that Viktor couldn’t catch, before he could ask Makkachin had barked and ran around the fountain they sat at and towards one of the park footpath, asking them to get a move on. Understanding the poodle’s demand, Yuri hopped down and ran after the poodle shouting, “Papa, Yuuri, let’s go!” 

 

Yuuri grabbed their empty paper bags to throw them away, “Yura wait! Don’t go running off without us!” Viktor let Yuuri follow after his son, feeling more safe to leave Yuri in the good hands of the danseur while he had his social media up. In less than a minutes, a new post was uploaded under his Instagram account which he continued to look at for longer than he needed to make the post, smiling to himself. 

 

“Viktor?” 

 

He looked up and everyone was waiting for him at the footpath, he stood and turned to wave a quick goodbye to Tiebor and went to catch up. This  _ date _ is only just starting. 

 

* * *

 

**V-nikiforov**

_ Kirov Central Park of Culture and Recreation _

 

15 likes

**V-nikiforov** _Two Yuris and one Makka, I am enjoying my weekend xxx #blessed #mybeautifulson #and #abeautifuldanseur #makkachin_

_ Posted 6 minutes ago _

 

Comments

**Phichit+chu** @katsukidon YUURI. EXPLAIN. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You need to understand, I made pirozhki for the first time a while ago and the combination of mince meat, mushroom, and carrot with dill just introduced my tongue to a whole new world. Made too much for me to eat and had to share with friends ayy. 
> 
> Also, Viktor sneaks in payment for the pirozhki to Tiebor’s daughter, they obviously know each other well with the amount of time Viktor has been to the park and becomes semi-family in the process.   
> \--------------------------------  
> You can follow the From a Random Playing Card tag on tumblr i use to post about progress or thoughts on this fic. I may sound angry at the start but I sincerely hope you can enjoy this chapter still. 
> 
> Much love xx


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm continues. Still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Christophe finally arrives!!! My precious perverted pole dancing boi, oh how I tried and tried to write you in and finally (finally!) you’ve arrived. 
> 
> Also Moana is damn good, i might have a song stuck in my head already. 
> 
> Unbeta'd <3

It was one of the best lunch he had in a long while and Yuuri is still enjoying himself when they left the fountain to a more grassy area that overlooked on of the lake in the large park, Makkachin was running around them playfully and occasionally barking to make sure they’re still following. Yuri had taken one of Yuuri’s hand and swung it slowly, mindful of the hurt arm which the danseur appreciated. Viktor walked on Yuri’s other side, humming softly with his son in an odd mismatched harmony that somehow worked and a smile that never seemed to leave his face. Yuuri had to mentally slap himself to keep himself grounded, it’s not hard to lose himself in the situation because he was just Yuri’s ballet teacher that coincidentally saved him from a kidnaping attempt and today is just simply to repay his effort. Simply that. After this, he would be back to be a normal teacher to them both, nothing more. 

 

Yuuri was snapped out of his thoughts when Makkachin rammed into him to get his attention, they had arrived at a spread of green next to the lake and Viktor was sitting down with Yuri, the Russian man looked up at him with a question and Yuuri shook his head before taking a hesitant seat beside the family. Once he was seated, Yuri migrated to Yuuri’s lap from his father’s side and grabbed a handful of grass along with a tiny blooming daisy to give to Yuuri. The four year old was blushing with his hand stretched out and if Yuuri was any weaker, he would have died, but he wasn’t (yet) so he survived and covered the boy’s hand with his a smile on, “Is this for me Yuri? It’s so beautiful, thank you.” 

 

The danseur lifted his head up when there was a dying noise next to him and found Viktor clutching his chest while his phone was facing Yuri, Yuuri laughed at the love Viktor had for his son and decided just perhaps…

 

“Yura, how about I teach you how to make flower crown?” The dying noise returned. 

 

Yuri nodded enthusiastically and began running around picking up more flowers that grew around them, Yuuri clicked his tongue to call Makkachin (who surprisingly listened) and the three of them went around gathering enough material for a small flower crown. The Russian Champion recovered enough to stare at the danseur in slight disbelief and wonderment that had Yuuri hiding his chuckle, “You are one scary man Mr. Katsuki.” 

 

“Yuuri, hurry up and make the flower crown!” The four year old was tugging on Yuuri’s sleeves and he had no choice but to comply. Yuuri showed the boy how to weave the flowers together and let Yuri do it on his own for a while, a little tongue peeking out from the side of his mouth in concentration, Viktor’s phone was raised once again. When Yuri gave the crown back to the black haired man in huff, it was threatening to unravel with a single touch, Yuuri smiled in pride and praised Yuri for his work that made the boy smile brighter than a sun.

 

In a smooth movement, Viktor had scooped Yuri into his laps and rested his chin on his son’s head while Makkachin crawled closer to the danseur to sniff at the flower in his hands. Yuuri finished the small flower arrangement with an  _ aha! _ And placed it right on Yuri’s head, the boy accepted it with his mouth shaping an  _ o _ .  Yuuri made a noise not different from what Viktor made before, “Viktor, can I- please take a photo of Yuri?” His eyes close to begging when looking at the man. It took less than second for Viktor to agree and Yuuri brought his own phone out, “Smile Yura!” 

 

Yuri gave the camera a toothy grin and Yuuri had to stop himself from having a nosebleed, the Japanese met Viktor’s eyes and both seemed to be doing the same thing, so they burst into laughter together. 

 

_ This is fine. _

 

_ If only this could last. _

 

* * *

 

After that, the afternoon went by faster than anyone expected. Yuri had proceeded to play chase with Makkachin while Viktor documented their every move until the poodle made a move to  _ chase _ Viktor that he had to run as well while Yuuri stayed by the side laughing until Yuri dragged him into the fray, demanding his attention. By the end of the afternoon, Yuri was so too tired to stay on his feet so Viktor had to carry him in his arms, the flower crown still perched on top of the boy’s head. Yuuri gave the boy a peck to his cheeks telling him to rest well, a gesture that the child returned with three pinky promise for Yuuri to not get hurt. 

 

“Viktor.” 

 

“Yuuri.” 

 

“Umm do you mind if I post a picture of Yura on my social media? I- I don’t mean anything but I just wanted to share Yura with my close friend and families, only if you don’t mind.” The silence that followed him was deafening but then Viktor exploded into a chain of agreement, “Of course you can Yuuri! I’m sure Yuratchka wouldn’t mind but only if you allow me to follow you as well? You have an instagram I’m sure?” 

 

Yuuri agreed with a shy smile and they took turns to follow each other on the app. The sun was starting to set and Viktor stared at him for a short while when Yuuri said his goodbyes, a hand offered for a handshake when the other man pulled him into a side hug thanking him for the amazing day. The danseur’s complexion turned fire red and had to remind himself to breath throughout the 10 second interaction,  _ why did it feel like hours _ , and if his idol had taken a deep breath or if his touches lingered on his waist, Yuuri didn’t notice. When they parted, Yuuri deemed himself too tired to deal with public transport and called a cab instead, indulging himself in the rare occassion. 

 

It was a good day. 

 

* * *

 

“Chris, no, listen, you don’t understand. He was angelic, beautiful, god like, pure like the first ray of sunshine upon the creation of earth or like the first drop of dew in the morning light - untainted, just like him Chris. How can someone be so… so… pure?” 

 

Christophe Giacometti’s amused laughter flowed through the receiver as Viktor was lamenting about the amazing being that is Katsuki Yuuri, “Chris, no seriously, I’m not joking!” 

 

“Oh Viktor, you have no idea how far gone you are and you’ve known this… Yuuri for how long?” 

 

“Two weeks!” 

“ _ Mon dieu _ , you are very gone. Are you sure you’re not just distracted by legs in tights?”

 

Viktor held the urge to scream at his longtime friend and comrade, “Noooooo Chris, you have to see him yourself to understand. This is different! He is amazing Chris, I owe Yuri’s safety to him and my son adores someone else that isn’t family!” 

 

_ Does Chris know how big of a deal that is? Does he? _

 

Chris chuckled again from the other line and decided to play along, “Alright then, okay. What do you want me to do with this information? Help you  _ woo _ this Yuuri?” There was clinking noises over the phone as the Swiss skater sipped at whatever he was drinking. Viktor huffed at the suggestion, “I can  _ woo _ him just well thank you very much. I just need someone to acknowledge how amazing and pure and sweet Yuuri is. Did you know he has a personal nickname for my Yuratchka?  _ Yurio,  _ he calls him Yurio with his friend, so cute!” 

 

This pattern of conversation went on for a full five minutes as Viktor moaned and whined and tried to deal with the existence of a danseur, until Chris seemed to realise something, “Wait, what did you say was Yuuri’s full name?” 

 

Viktor frowned on his bed at the sudden question, “Katsuki Yuuri, a japanese danseur currently training with Lilia at the Bolshoi. Why?”

 

Chris only hummed. 

 

“Chris?” 

 

“Oh nothing, just checking,” there was a pause on the line that only made Viktor more curious, “I think I know your Yuuri, let’s say I’ve seen one of his performance before.” That piqued the Russian’s interest, “Really? Where?” 

 

“Detroit, a few years back when we had an exchange training camp, you couldn’t come because of an ice show I think,” a pause when he hears a door opening and the soft greeting of another person on Chris’ side, “He’s a great dancer,” He finally added. There was something he couldn’t quite put a finger on with what Chris said, but of course Yuuri was a great dancer and Viktor proceeded to tell him just that while his friend laughed and continued to listen. 

 

At the end of their phone call, Viktor sighed as he lay back on his bed and gave precious Makkachin a scratch on her head. The poodle had decided she wanted to sleep on Viktor’s bed instead of Yuri’s tonight and he welcomed her. He had checked that Yuri was in his room, tucked into his bed as he should be for more than 4 times now, before he let himself relax. Viktor hadn’t been this relaxed for a long time, with the events of the day playing on constant repeat in his head as he slowly let sleep reel him in.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Yuuri stepped out of the shower that night, his phone had rang in the loudest pop ringtone known to man and he picked it up with a smile on his face, “Phichit! How are you? Did practice go well?” Was what he intended to say even though he never said past the first syllable. 

 

“Yuuri, holy shit! I didn’t think you’d go on a legit family date with VIKTOR NIKIFOROV!” 

 

Yuuri cringed at the loud yell and placed the offending device an arm’s length from his now sensitive ears, “Hello Phichit, yes I’m doing well, thank you for asking. How are you?” 

 

“Boi you don’t get to pull that sass on me. You. On. Date. Nikiforov. Tell me everything!” Yuuri rubbed the towel over his damp hair once more before hanging it to dry on a little rack, sighing at his friend’s insistence, “How did you find out anyway?”  

 

“Oh Yuuri, my precious innocent pure and amazing Yuuri, your photo with Yurio has been on instagram for ages! Viktor’s insta feed is blowing up! I swear to God it might even have gone viral.” The crackling over the internet line cut off Phichit’s last sentence a bit but Yuuri got the gist of it and frowned. He may be a performer but outside attention was something on his ‘Yeah Nah, I’m Good Without’ list, but he didn’t get any crazy notification so maybe it’s not as bad? 

 

“I haven’t really checked my instagram yet, but oh I did post a photo of Yurio, did you see? He’s so adorable with the flower crown.” 

 

“Of course I did see, I was first to like it and I swear I was ready to call you but damn practice!” Yuuri could hear Phichit mutter incoherent words in his mother tongue that was the embodiment of frustration and exasperation (possibly at him) before returning to normal, “Okay you really need to give me the details or I might just wither away and die, last we talked it was only you offering to cook for them again.” 

 

The Japanese danseur settled onto his bed with a relieved sigh and did as his best friend asked, a few minutes later, there was silence. Then a long appreciative whistle, “Damn Yuuri, guess those self defense lessons at uni worked huh,” he nodded with a hum, “How dead were they?” 

 

“They’re very much alive Phichit, I’m here to be a premier danseur not a murderer thank you very much,” Yuuri laughed at the exaggeration, thinking back to the unconscious Bastard Duo, “I’m just glad Yurio is safe, hopefully he won’t do anything like this again.”  

 

Phichit made a keening sound half way round the globe and muttered nonsense like Yuuri being too good for this world, too pure, and the likes. The Thai skater regained his control fast enough and continued his interrogations which Yuuri answered dutifully, by the time it was late at night Phichit was updated on anything and everything relevant, including a brief celebratory intermission when Yuuri said he was no longer to train with Ivan. 

 

“I’m so proud of you Yuuri,” Phichit had announced, “Look at my child, my beloved son, chasing the man of his dreams and being the best danseur there is to be. Yuuri, you’ll make me cry.” 

 

“I am not chasing after Viktor!” 

 

“I said I’m proud of you and that’s all you get?” Yuuri would have laughed at the fake insulted reaction from his friend if his complexion was not burning to put a thousand sun to shame.

 

“It really is nothing to this! I probably won’t get to see him much anymore, Viktor is a busy man from what I’ve heard and I’m just Yura’s ballet teacher.” Phichit made a dying noise. 

 

“Oh Yuuri, we’ll have to talk about this but I know it’s late for you over there and I want you to rest pronto, make sure your arm heal properly okay?” Yuuri voiced his agreement and they ended the call with Yuuri’s promise to update Phichit everyday on his arm. Yuuri lay on his bed, the same events that pulled Viktor to blissful sleep played on repeat on Yuuri’s mind until sleep finally got to him. 

 

* * *

 

Extra:

 

Viktor woke the next day more revitalized than ever and earlier than expected, even Makkachin was still too lazy to part with Viktor’s soft bed. Lounging at the kitchen island with a fresh cup of coffee, he scrolled through Yuuri’s instagram collection with a small frown, there just wasn’t enough content! Before the most recent post of Yuri wearing a flower crown - which he made sure to like as soon as possible - the danseur’s feed was mostly about places he’d visited, food, a mini poodle, some of his family and friend but hardly any pictures of himself. Some of the sparse selfies were taken with a familiar looking person that looked like when they were in university. He was only about to look into it further when he realized he missed a DM from Chris. 

 

**Chris**

I thought you might want this ★~(◠‿◕✿)

Link:  @phichit+chu

  
Viktor pressed on the link in curiosity and oh,  _ Oh _ . This was what he needed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had really wanted to finish the ‘2nd date arc’ as I call it and everything else that I wanted to write in this chapter so it’s a bit longer, but next upcoming chapters would be a bit shorter like usual. Hope that’s fine!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh the sun, how it shines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY I FORGOT TO UPDATE I WAS TRYING TO GET AHEAD OF CONTENT SCHEDULE THAT I ACTUALLY FORGOT TO UPDATE I AM SORRY. SORRY FOR ALL THE UNANSWERED COMMENTS TOO AAAAAAAA
> 
> ALSO I lied. This one is even longer. The next one is gonna be shorter, that’s for sure. Just to clarify Christophe only linked Viktor to Phichit’s instagram, none of the fun stuff. Yet. But I'm so glad you all love my Christophe, he's such an extra guy and kinda uncomfortable for some people because he's too outgoing? but glad you love this bab as much asI do <3 
> 
> mal’chik means little boy.

It was monday when Yuuri relented and let himself be persuaded to visit his doctor to check on his arm, when they took his bandage off the observing doctor shook his head and told him he would need to let the arm in bandage for a few more days and no strenuous activity which translates to _no ballet training or teaching_ followed by a strict look. The nurse pat him on the back with a badly hidden smile and went out to fetch a new wound dressing for him.

 

“Come back again on Friday and we’ll see then. If it’s closed good enough I can at least let you do some light teaching, but no training, do you hear _mal’chik_?”

 

Dimitri Evegenovich is tall, slender, and bears a pair of sharp eagle eyes, an intimidating man in by every definition in the book. Yuuri would have been annoyed at the patronising way he was spoken to, but having at least been with the doctor for almost 2 year, he learns that being called a boy is the highest regard Dimitri can show - a regard that comes with less painful injections. “Yes doctor. I’ll make sure to take care of it,” Dimitri gave him a long suffering look of distrust before huffing and scribbling onto his patient’s record, Yuuri left the clinic not fifteen minutes later with a handful of grape flavored candy shoved into his hand by Dimitri.

 

He was on his way back to the house when his phone _dinged_ with a message, Yuuri pulled the device out and a smile bloomed with ease, lifting the edge of his lips. It had been a total of two days after their afternoon out at Kirov park and Viktor had been texting him nearly every waking hour of the day, usually with short messages. And as if he was psychic…

 

           [Viktor Nikiforov]

           Yuuri~ How is your arm? What did the doctor say? Is it healed? Are you okay?

 

Knowing the questions would not stop until he replies, Yuuri typed out a quick response.

 

          [You]

          Hi Viktor, good morning! My arm is fine but the doctor said I need it bandaged for a few more days before I can use it (ノ﹏ヽ)

 

          [Viktor Nikiforov]

         （ｉДｉ）（ｉДｉ）（ｉДｉ）（ｉДｉ）

          Noooooo, I hope you get well soon! Yuri and I miss you so much!

 

          [You]

          I’ll do my best for Yuri! (｀･ω･´) ｂ

 

         [Viktor Nikiforov]

         Just for Yuri? (◕︿◕✿)

 

The bus entered his neighbourhood and Yuuri placed his phone back into his pockets and stepped off with a wave to the driver. The danseur walked home with a smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

The week continued in a very similar pattern; Yuuri woke up, prepared breakfast for Lilia and himself, light stretchings under Lilia’s constant watch, call his parents and Phichit every few days, read whatever book he had, and always without fail his daily texting with Viktor. Sometimes the Russian man would send pictures of Yuri or Makkachin or both at the same time, sometimes he would send selfies when he finds a funny thing at the supermarket, sometimes he would send him corny jokes he wants to try on Yakov, and sometimes angry pictures of the older man as well. Yuuri blatantly ignores all the knowing glances Lilia throws at him whenever a text arrives.

 

Now, one week after the incident, Dimitri deemed his arm healed enough and reluctantly allowed him to return to training and teaching, “ _Very_ light training, _mal’chik_.”  

 

So he woke up the earliest he could on the saturday morning to prepare lunch. He had time to kill the entire week and he had all the time to spoil Lilia rotten with home cooked meals while being mindful of the calories and nutrition. Although Lilia had the perfect metabolism for a ballerina, _he_ does not. Today in a small celebration of his return to teaching he reckon he can indulge himself.

 

Yuuri took out some gravy beef, carrots, onions, and potatoes, smiling to himself at the sight of familiar ingredients and recipe. Japanese curry had been one of Phichit’s favorite food when they still roomed together and a food that reminds him of home, only second to katsudon. He hummed as he cleaned and chopped the ingredients, sautéd the onion till tender, browned the meat, and before long he was leaving the pot to cook and wait for the meat to soften. Lilia entered the kitchen just as he was adding the rest of the vegetables to cook, she took a deep breath and nodded in approval, saying something along the line of additional protein intake. Yuuri was just about to put the kettle to boil when Lilia took over, “I’ll make the tea and coffee, you should go prepare.” The Japanese man looked behind to the wall clock and agreed, taking off his apron to a promise he’ll be back soon.

 

On the way over to the rink, Yuuri listened quietly to Lilia humming to the classical music from the radio and sometimes joining in himself, the Japanese curry and rice tucked safely at the backseat with a seatbelt around it - Lilia’s recommendation when Yuuri was ready to hold multiple big hot container on his lap. “Would you be able to join us for lunch? I figured we could have it together with Viktor, Yura, and Yakov if we’re in the same place,” Lilia peered at him from her driver’s seat with a stoic expression, Yuuri waited and was graced with a curt nod less than a minute later.

 

As usual, they were one of the few people that arrived at the rink first, the security guard greeting them with a cheerful smile and a _welcome back Yuuri_.

 

“I’ll be at the main offices this morning, find me when you’re done with the class,” The danseur nodded his understanding and they turned to go their separate ways, Yuuri to persuade the cafeteria to keep the curry warm before heading to his training room. The familiar corridors soon a welcome sight to Yuuri’s otherwise slow week and soon he noticed that the lights in his training room was already on, maybe the janitor forgot to turn it off?

 

Yuuri opened the door only to find the room not as empty as expected as a blur of blond and blue barrel towards him, “Yuuri, welcome back! I missed you so much!”

 

Yuri ran straight into Yuuri and sent the man into a laughing state at his enthusiasm, the danseur bent down to hug the boy in return, “Thank you Yuri I missed you too, but you’re here really early!”

 

The boy nodded with excitement, “Yeah, Papa drove us here. He’s really early too!”, Yuri pointed to the inside of the room where Viktor is leaning on one of the barres, his beige knitted pullover over a pair of black slacks adorn his figure as it would a runway model and paired with a smile that rivalled the rising sun of St. Petersburg. Viktor’s eyes met his and he threw his arms to the air in celebration, “Welcome back, Yuuri!” Already familiar with Viktor’s often exaggerated and _extra_ antics - even just through texts - Yuuri accepted the welcome with a smile of his own, ignoring the small blush that made its way to the tips of his ears as he said his thanks.

 

“You are really early today, I’m afraid I’m not even ready for class.” Yuri had taken one of his free hand and they walked together to the side where a small table with a speaker resides and Yuuri placed his bag beside it, “I haven’t even warmed up yet.”  

 

The Russian man waved his hand in dismissal, “We’re not here for that are we Yuratchka, we’re here to welcome you back!” His son nodded his agreement beside the danseur, his small hand still connected with his. “Well, I suppose I can accept that,” Yuuri said with a smile, “Class will start soon, what do you say we stretch together Yura?”

 

Yuri nodded and needless to say Viktor delayed any form of departure for as long as he can. He watched with rapt attention as Yuuri guided Yuri into a stretch on the barre and on the floor, the danseur’s beautiful and lithe body was displayed across various warm up forms that made Viktor’s mouth go drier than a hundred year of drought in a desert. His brain did a quick flashback to Phichit Chulanont’s instagram account, what was missing from Yuuri’s was in abundance in the Thai skater’s account - apparently they were flatmates in Detroit, a fact Viktor couldn’t help be slightly jealous about - Viktor had never been so thankful of Chris and the Thai in that moment. Viktor remembers the cute selfies (all of them), at a rink, at Yuuri’s old ballet company, at their apartment, and most unforgettable, the short stretching video that did nothing to hide the danseur’s beautiful bottom. _The ass_ , he thinks, _it’s always the ass_ . So while the danseur and his student continued to stretch in blissful obliviousness, one man had to use all his self-control to not just nosebleed and pass out from being unable to handle one man’s _allure_.

 

When other students and their parents arrive for class, Viktor stayed to watch Yuuri being welcomed by every single one of them before having to be forced away with the rest of the leaving parents, he made his way to Yakov’s office in both regret and relief. If watching Yuuri stretch affected him that much, _what would watching him the whole lesson do to him?_

 

* * *

 

There was many thing to be worked on when Viktor reached his mentor’s office, Lilia was also there to discuss the novice and advanced class’ training for the next season, so when the clock chimed as lunch rolled in Viktor was more than pleasantly surprised at how fast the time went. He was about to pick up Yuri when a knock was on the door, it opened the next second to Yuuri and Yuri, both looking tired but pleased. Yuri ran to Viktor with a happy greeting before taking turns to hug Lilia and Yakov, both looking disgruntled but pleased at the affection nonetheless.

 

“I hope we’re not bothering you, class just finished and I wanted to leave Yura with you while I grab our lunch,” Viktor looked up at the danseur, hope dancing with the implication.

 

“Lunch?” His voice full of hope and wasn’t disappointed when Yuuri nodded shyly, “I uh- thought it would be nice for all of us to have lunch if you’re not too busy. I’ve made some Japanese curry and the cafeteria is keeping it warm for me. I can grab it now if you’d like?”

 

The question was received with positive exclamations, though what you’d get from Yakov is the less irritated grunt, “I’ll come with you,” Viktor offered and is pleasantly surprised when the danseur agreed, “I can use a hand for that.”

 

Yuuri was not surprised at the looks he was given by the cafeteria lady when he arrived with Viktor on tow, she gave him a second of eyebrow wiggle and cooed at Victor as Yuuri blushed when retrieving the container at the back, “Oh Vitya I was wondering why you haven’t come over recently, you’ve gotten yourself your own cook!”   

 

“Oh yes, my Yuuri’s cooking is amazing! We’re having curry today!”

 

They returned to Yakov’s office after Yuuri shrieked from behind the counter and rushed them away from the laughing cafeteria lady, their return was greeted with Yakov and Lilia refusing to acknowledge Yuuri’s reddened face while Yuri hounded his father. The danseur couldn’t help the amusement as he managed to get the boy off Viktor’s case with little difficulty when he asked Yuri to help him handing out lunch. The Russians all took one bite into the the food and it was followed by a chorus of “Vkusno!”

 

Yuuri accepted the chorus of various compliment much better than expected, a string of continuous praise from Viktor, silence awe from Yakov and Yuri, and Lilia’s Nod of ApprovalTM. Yuri had shimmied his way between his father and the danseur and began devouring the plate in front of him, Yuuri laughed when the boy tried to lick a spot of stray gravy at the side of his lip and took it in stride to help clean it up with a napkin. The boy giggle when Yuuri swiped at his nose, “Eat slowly Yura, the food isn’t going anywhere you silly boy.”

 

The clock ticked as they enjoyed lunch and soon an alarm rang on Yuuri’s phone, he looked up sheepishly after turning it off, “I might have forgotten the time, it’s almost time for training at the Bolshoi,” Lilia waved him off easily, “We can clean this up, be on your way.”  

 

Sensing a rare opportunity, Viktor took the chance, “Why don’t I drive you there Yuuri? Consider it a thanks for the meal,” Not risking his chance, the man plastered on his brightest smile and puppy eyes that worked wonders for him in many situation and hoped for the best, “Please?” Yuuri choked and flustered but in the end he smiled shyly, “I- I could use the lift, thank you.”

 

“ Then it’s settled! Come, let’s go now, don’t want you to be late,” Viktor threw a wink just because, Yuuri refused to acknowledge it and Yuri made a gagging noise at the back (which got him a stern reprimand from Lilia).

 

* * *

 

Viktor made a show of opening the door to the passenger seat and patting it clean for Yuuri when they arrived at the car, like an exotic bird courting a mate only for it to fall to shy mind, “Oh no, you don’t have to do that! I didn’t mean to bother you!” The Russian man pouted at that, “It wasn’t a bother at all! Go ahead Yuuri.”

 

They entered the car and was on the road within the minute, Yuuri soon found out that after 5 minutes of constant peeking over at the man beside him and accompanied by an unexpected English radio that Viktor Nikiforov can skate _and_ sing. Viktor hums to the tunes of a jazz song and sang effortlessly with it while still focusing on the road, a beautiful low falsetto that harmonies with the piano and saxophone. Yuuri gulped at the sight beside him and tries to burn that image into his brain, because let’s be real, _this_ will never happen again.

 

The danseur was slightly startled as they stopped at a redlight, taking in the the surrounding area before realizing they were already halfway to the theatre. Yuuri felt a chill down his back and turned around to find Viktor staring at him with an indescribable look, he leaned down to the steering wheel and sighed, making Yuuri more confused.

 

“Is- is there anything wrong?”

 

“Yuuri, did you know you’re amazing?”

 

“Huh? Oh you mean my cooking!” Yuuri smiled at that, he’s always been proud of his cooking skills, the one particular talent that prevented Phichit and him to go starving in their early months of living together since they had no job, “My mother always welcomed me in the kitchen at home even though I only made a mess so I learned a lot from her.”

 

“Yea- no, that’s not all I meant, you-”

 

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

 

“Oh shit!”

 

Viktor hurriedly changed gear and stepped on the gas before the cars lining up behind him get anymore annoyed, “Sorry, sorry, I promise I’m a better driver.” Yuuri chuckled as he slowly released his grip on his seatbelt, letting the former skater ramble about his driving skills, _I swear I drive safe_ and _I can’t let Yuratchka get hurt, promise!_

 

“Viktor, it’s fine I believe you. Yuratchka is important to you, of course you wouldn’t do anything to put him in harm.”

 

Viktor’s sigh of relief was enough to bring an amused smile to his face and after a few more streets, Viktor turned the car into the driveway of the theatre. Yuuri was enjoying his time but he had to hide his disappointment as the car came to a stop, ready to say his goodbyes, Viktor spoke up instead.

 

“Why don’t we grab a coffee before I get back to the rink?”

 

“I- here?”

 

“There’s a cafe here right? Let’s go, I’m feeling like a hot cup of coffee!”

 

And that’s how they end up sitting at a table in the green room* cafe, Viktor had left to order their coffee (his treat obviously) and just as he finished paying and moved to the side to wait for the drinks a figure stepped close beside him. Viktor looked up to see a brunette stare at him judgingly, “Hello?”

 

“Did you come with Yuuri? Who are you? What are you doing with him?”

 

Viktor choked in surprise, “I- what?”

 

She continued to stare. Now with eyebrows too.

 

“Uhh… Yuuri is my son’s ballet instructor?”

 

“Instructor… you’re-”

 

“Viktor Nikiforov, didn’t expect to see you here!”

 

The woman turned to greet a lean man that is making their way to them, “Pyotr, this is him then?”

 

“There aren’t many silver haired living legend Sophie, really how can you not recognise him.”

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met?”

 

The man, Pyotr, extended his hand which Viktor accepted, “Pyotr Ludibrov and Sophie Altea, we train with Yuuri here. Sorry about her just now, we’ve just been really protective of Yuuri recently.”

 

“Oh, why?” His interest piqued, Viktor looked from Sophie to Pyotr and back as they contemplated. “This and that, really. Our _premier danseur_ has never been pleased with Yuuri and with what just happened, I bet he’ll be harder to handle now,” Pyotr’s vague words made little sense in context for Viktor but he got the gist that something is going on.

 

“At least he’s not training Yuuri anymore and that’s for the bloody best,” Sophie’s words confused Viktor, “Isn’t Lilia Baranovskaya training Yuuri?”

“Supposed to be, but Ivan started training Yuuri early this year and it got worst when he part-times at the ice rink. He’s always been an utter twat to Yuuri.”

 

_What Ivan?_

 

Viktor’s order is called just a second later and the two dancers decided to leave as well, “We’ll see Yuuri at training soon, don’t hog him too long!” Sophie called as she waved a bit off to the side.

 

_Wait. What Ivan?_

 

“Viktor, did you get the coffee?” The silver haired man turned to face the man of interest before he could ask the retreating dancers, “I saw my friends just now so I figured I’d come over.”

 

“Oh yes, yes. They seem nice.”

 

A brightened smile.

 

“Yes they are, it feels as if they were sent here by my best friend,” he said with an amused laugh, “Together, they become way too similar with him.” Viktor smiled back at him, seemingly enjoying the small information of Yuuri’s life. He passed Yuuri’s coffee to him and let his fingers linger ever so slightly, hoping he wasn’t being too forward but Yuuri seemed to have other things on his mind… how unfortunate.

 

“Crap, sorry Viktor I have to go now, practice starts in five minutes,” the danseur was checking his wristwatch as he received his coffee before looking at Viktor, “I’ll uh- thank you for the lift.”

 

The Russian simply gave his heart shaped smile, leaned into Yuuri’s space and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek,“Of course, it was my pleasure. Have a good good practice Yuuri!” Viktor watched with a shining grin as Yuuri’s cheeks gradually turned red, stuttering over his cup of coffee while trying to process what had just happened. The danseur decided at that point to just squeak, bow, and run his way into the corridors of the Bolshoi, leaving Viktor to wave his goodbye, “See you soon Yuuri!”

 

Yuuri refuses to talk about his the red marring his cheeks at training.   

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri are you sure you still wanna continue? You’re only just back for a day, you know.”

 

“And that’s exactly why I need to catch up, don’t worry too much Sophie,” Yuuri stretched his body on the floor for a cooldown after a regimen, “I’ll go home after one more set, promise.” Sophie looked at him with a less than convinced look when Yuuri tilted his head to look up with a pleading expression. Pyotr laughed from beside Yuuri in a similar cooldown position, “Let him be Sophie, he’ll get all of his training itches out if he dances it off. Let him be for today yeah? And wipe that frown away, don’t want early wrinkles do you?”

 

Yuuri laughed when Sophie threw her towel at Pyotr, earning her an annoyed yell. “Seriously guys, I’ll be fine. Go home and rest yeah?” Sophie nudged Yuuri with her feet while Pyotr just gave him a look, “What?”

 

“I’m backing you up here, but only one more set okay?”

 

“Fine fine, go home you mother hens,” Yuuri waved his hand at them gave them another almost convincing reassurance before moving from the floor to the side of the room. Grabbing his water bottle, he took a swig and checked his phone, sending out a text to Lilia to update her before turning on the music app. The three of them was the last to trickle out of the training room and now it’s only him in the room as soft lyrics played from the speaker. It was time to start his next routine.

 

Yuuri finally stopped after the clock chimed at half past ten, the sky noticeably dark and the streets light a bright contrast to the surrounding. The raven took a deep breath and leaned against the tall window pane that looks out, enjoying the quietness of the night before packing up, it was late enough that he had to leave soon before Lilia gets worried. It was then that a loud footstep echoed outside the room, Yuuri looked at the door expecting either the cleaner or a security guard.

 

But when the door opened, it was neither.

 

Ivan stood at the door with what seems to be murder in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: AAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA
> 
> YOU THOUGHT.
> 
> I WAS PREPARED. WERE YOU.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words. A fall. A fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, actual shorter chapter now, soz my dears ;D

“Katsuki Yuuri.” 

 

Ivan took one step into the room, the movement louder and yet quieter than Yuuri’s erratically beating heart. Yuuri had instinctively straightened at Ivan’s entrance, the rush of his blood a cacophony in his ears making him lightheaded, but he has to stand his ground, “Ivan?” 

 

The man’s face turned red in fury as he marched straight into the raven’s space, the tension on his neck and arm clearly visible when he lunged towards him, “You disgusting coward!” The force threw Yuuri’s head and back against the window with a loud thud as Ivan continued to push into his space, the Russian’s hot breath burns against the Japanese’s cheeks with no way to escape because of the grip Ivan had on his shirt. “You are one dirty useless scum, you complained to that bitch didn’t you. You and your powerful backer is staining the purity of the Bolshoi. Talentless bitches like you should never have allowed to step into this theatre and now you’re dragging me through the mud,” Ivan reared back and brought Yuuri with him before slamming him back again. 

 

“I am the  _ premier danseur _ and because of  **you** , I have to teach novices?! Because of  **you** they suspended my role! Because of  **you** I have officials questioning  _ me _ !” 

 

Now Yuuri choked, gasping for breath when the taller man lifted his collar, slowly cutting off air supply. His hands clawed at the other man, trying to get him off, trying to free himself. 

 

“You,” Ivan spat, “are a vermin.” 

 

Ivan moved to grab his injured arm and squeezed, digging his fingers into the injury making Yuuri yell in pain and fall to the floor clutching the arm, “Let go! Ivan please let go!” 

 

His breath hitched as he tried to blink through the pain, slowly losing the fight, “I didn’t know, I didn’t know! Lilia only told me you had a new project, I didn’t know!” 

 

A feet swings towards Yuuri’s shoulder and he fell back with a louder thud and Ivan stood as a looming figure above the raven, his face took a worse turn, “I’ve had enough of your excuses.  You train with Lilia Baranovskaya but we all know it’s a waste of effort, you will never have the talent to be a  _ premier danseur, _ ” Ivan curled his fist, “You will never be good enough.” 

 

Silence was left in the room as Ivan stormed back out the door while Yuuri stayed curled on the floor, sweat from fear and tears run down his face while a fist was shoved into his mouth to keep his cry from reaching out.  _ He is weak. He is a coward. He doesn’t deserve his life. He will never be enough.  _

 

No. 

 

He’ll have to prove it. 

 

He’ll have to prove his worth. 

 

Even if it killed him.  

 

* * *

 

Yuuri returned to the house past midnight but the light in the living room was still on, he sighed knowing it wouldn’t be easy to get past Lilia with a dumb excuse. The danseur opened the front door with a click and was greeting with Edgar curling around his feet purring softly. Yuuri picked the cat up and breathed deeply into his fur, taking his time to calm his breathing and prepare himself, “Yuuri,” he can hear Lilia call him. 

 

“I’m back Lilia, sorry it’s so late, I fell asleep after the practice.” 

 

Yuuri refused to meet Lilia’s eyes when he got to the living room, choosing instead to weave his hand through Edgar’s fur and listen to his continuous purring. The ex-prima took a long look at her protégé and decided it was best to wait for Yuuri to open up and tell her instead of probing for an explanation. She stood from her armchair and placed a hand on Yuuri’s hips to guide him towards the stairs, not missing the way he flinched and rushed to cover it, “Then rest now, I will not have you hurt yourself again after losing a whole week. Sleep late tomorrow, we will train after lunch.” 

 

He nodded and with Edgar in his arms he retreated to his room with Lilia following close behind, “Good night Lilia,” Yuuri slumped against the door and let out a deep sigh, letting him calm down with each breath. The danseur fell into a fitful sleep after a shower, Edgar curling protectively at the side of Yuuri’s neck, purring into the late night. 

 

* * *

 

Shivers ran down his spine, the road was dark and he would feel gravel beneath his feet as he ran and ran and ran. He could hear whispers, he could  _ feel _ them crawling up his neck into his ears, he could see shadowed arms reaching for him. He was going to trip at the rate he’s going, he’s going to trip and he’ll be dragged down to suffocate by words, by fear, by his own uselessness. He runs. He trips. He gasps. He woke up clutching his heart. 

 

His hand shivers when he lifted it to wipe at his brows, the suffocating feeling had yet stopped and Yuuri struggled to keep his breathing steady. The maine coon was disturbed as Yuuri woke in shock and meowed his dissatisfaction at the danseur, earning a shaky laugh and a pet, “Sorry Edgar, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Edgar purred to accept the apology and moved to Yuuri’s lap to settle down once more. 

 

The man and cat stayed in the same position for five minutes before Yuuri blinked around the room to find the time, red numbers flashed brightly from his bedside clock and it was only after 4 in the morning. Deciding he could not possibly go to sleep again after that Yuuri apologetically lifted Edgar from his lap to place him on the bed, “Sorry again Edgar, you take the bed, yes?” The cat bristled at the change but then settled into Yuuri’s left over warmth on the furniture. The danseur looked at the cat’s satisfied curl and felt just a little bit better. 

 

The streets were predictably quiet when Yuuri stepped out for a run, the lights from the street lights illuminating his run route. Music played louder than usual through his earphone in the silent of the morning and soon the rush of blood rose in volume, Yuuri couldn’t let himself think about the similarity of his activity and the dream, opting to run faster and further. When he had found himself calm enough to face anyone at all, the sun had risen and shone brightly against his face, a quick time check showed that it was past 6 o’clock and it was time for him to get back. The kitchen’s light was on when Yuuri entered the gate and Lilia was there to greet him with question in her eyes, “I thought I told you to rest.” 

 

“I- yes, I woke up too early and couldn’t get back to sleep. I’m feeling fine though, so don’t worry,” Yuuri bowed his apology and wringed his hands as Lilia sipped her tea. 

 

“Madame, is it okay that we start training early today?” The ex-prima regarded him silently, “I- I need to catch up after the week off, I can’t afford to slack off now. Please?” 

 

“Very well,” Lilia agreed, “Clean up, have your breakfast and then come to the training room. We will continue where you left off.” 

 

Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief and went to do what he’s told, fingers clammy as he chucked his running attire for the shower. He couldn’t afford to lose anymore time, he’ll have to train before his worth drops to nothing, before madame notices how useless he was, before he loses every path he paved to be where he is. Yuuri ate a piece of bread under Lilia’s scrutiny, each bite felt like ash and sand on his tongue, he didn’t earn the right to eat - not with his mediocre results. He has to train, more and more, or he will deserve nothing. 

 

* * *

 

Lilia watched as her protégé dances, desperate and deadly, as if the world below his feet would collapse if he ever stops for a minute. This was a view that Lilia recognises, this was what drew her to Yuuri in the first time she saw him perform in Detroit, the fire and desperation a familiar sight. But what’s in front of her now is more the need to dance, this was  _ more _ , in a very bad way. Yuuri went off axis in his pirouette and Lilia clapped to get his attention, “Focus Yuuri! I can feel your mind drifting so pick up the pace and concentrate, no student of mine should go off axis in a simple pirouette. Focus!” 

 

“Yes madame!” Yuuri panted with his hands on his knees, sweat free flowing from his face to his neck, wetting the shirt’s collar. “One more time!” And Yuuri obeyed. 

 

She should make him stop and talk, but she knows she  _ couldn’t _ . 

 

* * *

 

This went on for three days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ALLO HOWSIT GOING EVERYBODY, GOOD?


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he is in pain, so are we.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Finally got to watch Moana! So… *hums Moana’s You’re Welcome w/ no regrets*
> 
> Also QUICK INFO: I couldn’t find the email notif again for the comment that this came from so I might have mass deleted it accidentally (but you know who you are), but in the part where Yuri went ‘missing’ I wrote you had to wait 24 hours before the police would accept a missing person report but you don’t have - REPORT ALL AND ANY MISSING PERSON AT ONCE ESPECIALLY IF YOU FEAR FOR THEIR SAFETY - so that’s a thing I missed big time. But thanks to you who told me this!!!

Lilia has watched this going on for three days. Ever since saturday, Yuuri had been on a nonstop training mindtrack not even considering his meals or sleep, he became silent and despite not being a loud individual in the first place the house had lost all signs of soft laughter from Yuuri’s phone calls or the soft conversation he has with Edgar. There’s been several cases where Yuuri forgot to eat and opted to train when she wasn’t paying attention and even when he ate, it was a meager spoonful or two before he claimed he was full. 

 

Yesterday took a worse turn when Yuuri refused to eat at all. Her protégé had had this… sudden training urge before and it usually lasted a day as he danced his worries away from his mind or however he found it best to cope with the pressure and stress, but this was different and she had to step in before she has to send him to Dr. Dimitri again. 

 

It was only 5 in the morning and yet fast and unrelenting tempo of a violin played through the mansion’s training room, if she opened the door she would find Yuuri dancing like his life depended on it yet with sunken eyes and the dullest look in the once bright warm caramel. Something happened for sure to trigger this, it wasn’t a matter of whether or not she should intervene but she hesitates, because  _ one _ wrong move and her protégé would crumble faster than dry sand. The ex-prima sighed and entered the room anyway, the door giving away without a whine and the music poured out louder than before and Yuuri just where she expects him to be. 

 

Yuuri hasn’t noticed Lilia, while his body were focused on the movements and steps, his eyes were glazed and red rimmed, clear signs of fatigue. A series of  _ fouettes _ , an  _ arabesque _ to a  _ glissade _ before entering a staccato sequence that break his body further in each step.  _ This has to stop. _

 

“Yuuri,” the danseur stopped in surprise, lifting his sight up to find her standing by the doorway. Lilia watched his features properly, his eyes were sunken, skin pale, and he swayed even as he stood still. 

 

“Madame! G- good morning, I’m sorry I’ll go prepa-” He stopped short when Lilia shook her head, a tight frown on her face. 

 

“Enough of this, you will be taken off practice today. There is no use to it if you are just going to break yourself. You are my student and I will not allow this any longer,” Yuuri visibly flinched at her words and she understands,  _ she does _ , but no more, “No more Yuuri. Rest. I assure you with my guidance you will never fall behind, but only if you  _ listen _ to me.” 

 

“No! Madame, please, I can-” 

 

“Yuuri,” Silence and a painfully desperate expression, “Rest.”

 

* * *

 

 

That had been 3 hour ago, Yuuri had silently obeyed and left the room to change while Lilia was called into the skating rink to look over a skater’s choreography soon after a silent breakfast that her student stared at instead of eating it. She sighed when she remembered agreeing to be choreography consultant, not wanting to leave Yuuri when he’s in this state. Lilia had peeked into Yuuri’s room to find him facing away from the door, looking out from the window listlessly while Edgar was curled beside him, her voice startled Yuuri out of his reverie, “I’ll be heading to the rink for a few hours to help with Babicheva’s choreography. Make sure you rest Yuuri.” 

 

Yuuri nodded and replied with a soft, “Have a safe trip.” A tired smile on his face. Lilia had taken that as a sign that Yuuri is listening to her and left with hope. But it wasn’t as simple as that. It never was and it never will.  

 

When Lilia got home after the day, she was greeted with silence that was a constant the last few days but it went on for too long. She wanted to believe the lack of presence is because Yuuri had finally given in and had a proper sleep, in his room, safe, and not running himself down. All hopes were dashed when the ex-prima spotted a note on the kitchen counter, a neat and characteristical handwriting bringing more worry than ever necessary. 

 

_ Dear Madame, _

 

_ I’m sorry I can’t follow your words. Please think of me as a terrible student, but I cannot neglect the fact that at this rate it won’t be enough and it never will be. I need to do this. I need to prove this to you and the Bolshoi.  _

 

_ I’ll be out for a few hours, dinner is ready in the fridge and Edgar has been fed for the day.  _

 

_ I’m sorry. _

__             - Yuuri _ _

 

 

* * *

 

Lilia Baranovskaya paced. She paced and paced and paced. With the ticking clock as a tempo, she went back and forth the short corridor that connects the kitchen and the living room, taking a glance at the front door every time she passes by. Lilia had given Yuuri three hours to calm down, waiting till after dinner before worrying more than necessary. She had told herself that Yuuri is a responsible grown adult and has the right to spend his available time as he pleases, she was closed to being convinced until she remembers that her protégé is the softest, most innocent, and fragile person in a currently unstable mind condition. She sighed as the time kept ticking, now closer to midnight as she sat down on the sofa and pulled out her phone. 

 

Lilia considers calling either one of Yuuri’s friend, but that would cause a bigger commotion than intended. They are good friends but too closely related to the Bolshoi and she doesn’t want to have Yuuri’s friends have a wrong understanding. The ex-prima tapped her chin, she wants to go and look for Yuuri but knows that someone need to be at home in case he returns, Yuuri didn’t have anyone else aside from Sophie and Pyotr, so that means it to Yuuri’s most recent acquaintance. There is no concrete logic as to why he would help or why she should call him at all, but it was a chance Lilia would take. So she dialed.  

 

* * *

 

Viktor was enjoying a nice cup of brandy spiked tea on the comfort of the sofa, sighing as he sank into the soft upholstery after a long day. The rink was busy with the coaching team trying to design choreography for the senior level skaters with Lilia supervising and him coaching the novice group their first double toe loop. Although it was exhausting, Viktor enjoyed the pace of the day, feeling the familiar but oddly new kinds of sore and bone tiredness as a coach compared to as a competitor. He was rewarded with his sweet girl Makkachin greeting him with lots of kisses and a pot full of pierogi from Tanya before she went home after babysitting Yuri. 

 

The precious boy knows how to demand attention after a whole day at school and wanted a longer bedtime story than usual, Viktor being a weak human, relented. Mila had bought Yuri  _ The Book With No Pictures _ and the boys adores it, Viktor rather enjoyed it too, reminiscing back to when his parent would do voices from a story together to make him sleep. Yuri had wanted the book read  _ twice _ this evening and after at the last few pages, the boy had troubles keeping his eyes open. 

 

Makkachin had opted to snuggle with Yuri tonight and Viktor enjoyed a quiet moment with only the television on a random channel. He was halfway through his cup of tea when his phone rang, Lilia’s name appeared on the screen, emanating urgency despite the chipper ringtone.

 

“Hello?” 

 

Viktor sat ramrod straight for 1 minutes as Lilia talked over the line, his heartbeat slowly and steadily rising into panic. 

 

“What- How long has he been out? Has he really not called? No voicemail?” 

 

“None, no contact Vitya. I won’t be asking this if he had. So, can you?” Viktor had already grabbed his coat before Lilia even asked. 

 

“Of course, you didn’t have to ask. Tell me where he might have have gone to.” His keys were in his hand but he had to check on Yuri one last time. He sighed in relief that he was still well asleep with Makkachin. Knowing he couldn’t waste anymore time, he put on his shoes and ran the short way to Tanya’s apartment, knocking sharply on the door. Tanya’s husband opened the door a moment later with sleepiness in his eye and Viktor was more than apologetic, forgetting that not most people are awake this late at night. 

 

“I’m so sorry Evegeni, I know it’s late but I need you to watch Yuratchka for a few hours. My- My friend has gone missing and I have to find him before something bad happens,” Tanya had appeared behind her husband and was waving Viktor away. 

 

“Go on Vitya, we’ll watch Yura. I’ve still got a copy of your key,” Viktor sighed in relief. 

 

“Thank you, thank you so much. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I owe you a huge tip.” Both Evegeni and Tanya waved him goodbye as he took the stairs to get to his car parked just opposite the building. Lilia had suggested some park corners Yuuri often go to for some peace and quiet so Viktor went to the closest one to him, traffic was not that bad this late on a monday and he arrived to at the first spot. Then the second. Then the third. The fourth was a 24 hour diner in mid St. Petersburg, but he wasn’t there either. Viktor slumped against the steering wheel, trying to think where Yuuri might go next. Lilia said he had left because he wanted to prove himself, because someone at the Bolshoi must have said something to trigger this, if so Yuuri won’t be looking for peace and quiet. He would be  _ proving _ himself. 

 

With a movement he shifted the gear and stepped on the gas. 

 

He was here at the theatre in less than ten minutes, parking the car at the main driveway knowing there wasn’t a performance on, he only hoped that the doors would somehow be open. It wasn’t. 

 

“Damn it,” the various doors he tried remained locked and unmoving, “I know he’s here. Come on damn it.” 

 

The sudden call behind him made him jump three feet, “Hey! What are you doing here?!” Who seems like a security guard waved a flashlight in his face and he flinched at the brightness. “I- My name is Viktor Nikiforov, I’m looking for Katsuki Yuuri. He’s the, the training premier dan-” 

 

“The Japanese boy?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Are you here to pick him up then?” The woman let her flashlight down to take a good look at Viktor, the grown man fidgeting under the scrutiny,  _ is she somehow related to Lilia? _

 

“Yes, yes I’m his friend! His mentor, Madame Baranovskaya, is worried he’s still not home this late at night,” the guard nodded and motioned him aside so she could open the door. “That boy has been here since two this afternoon at the last room on the right of this corridor. I normally wouldn’t allow outsiders this late into the building but I’m worried of him,” the door clicked and swung open easily to let Viktor in, “He’s been dancing and dancing like there’s no tomorrow, if he doesn’t stop soon it might just be true.” Viktor nodded, understanding the sincere request and trust he’d just been given.  

 

“I’ll stay here to lock up after you guys,” the guard leaned on the door frame and motioned her head to the corridor, “Don’t be too long.” So Viktor ran. 

 

* * *

 

He promised himself to not fall down the slippery slope of his anxiety after the first time he did while away from his best anchor and friend, he ended up in hospital with severe anemia and the various complications that comes with dancing yourself to death. He promised he wouldn’t, ever, again, to Phichit, to Mari, to Lilia, to Sophie and Pyotr. And he hadn’t. 

 

If he was ever overwhelmed, he had a good system of dealing with it. Tell Lilia and he would have the day or more to himself, if he felt like being alone he’d head over to a park and read or dance at any available studio till his mind is calm, if he felt like company he would call up Phichit and/or Mari to talk him through their day until he was ready to talk. 

 

But this time it was different. He couldn’t explain why, but it had a tighter hold on Yuuri than he could understand. He tried to talk but he couldn’t. He wanted to ask for help but he couldn’t. He wanted to help himself but he couldn’t.  _ Because I deserve this. _

 

Everything was shaping in and out of form in his mind, Ivan’s words plays on repeat every waking moment sometimes even bleeding into his sleep that he didn’t dare close his eyes. A failure, a parasite, a disgrace. Useless. 

 

The only time the words stop was when he danced, when he proves himself useful and worthy, when blood thunders in his ear and drowns everything else around him. So he does. It took longer than he thought for Lilia to ban him from practicing but he thought she of all should understand his need, this wasn’t the time to be worried of  _ him _ , there are more important things than him. He made a promise and he would try to keep it as best as he could, but Ivan would return like he always will the very minute he stops. 

_ You will never be enough. _

 

Now, hours and hours later than he could remember, he breathed heavily as his heart pumped blood through his veins. His sight was littered with darkness, a never ending looming presence stands behind him, waiting for him to trip, waiting for him to fall. Even though his arms feel like lead, his back and his head throwing, legs burning and he could no longer feel his toes, he keeps getting back  _ en pointe _ . If he looked back, there would be streaks of red on the shine of the room’s floor, another proof of how weak he is.  

 

Then it’s back. The words, the whispers, the snide remarks, and the continuing  _ you are not worth it _ echoes at the back of his head, fueling his death like body to move. The music had long stopped playing from the sound system, with no beat, no rhythm, nor melody, Yuuri’s step and movements were harrowing.  _ Ghoulish _ . 

 

_ There is no stopping.  _

 

_ He could not stop.  _

 

_ He will not stop until he proves himself.  _

 

_ He will not stop until there isn’t an imperfect muscle in his body.  _

 

_ He is not worth it.  _

 

_ He has to be worth it.  _

 

_ Lilia counted on him to be her legacy.  _

 

_ The theatre needs him to be a lead.  _

 

_ His fellow ballerinas and danseurs would be humiliated if he is this incompetent.  _

 

_ Ivan is right.  _

 

_ He can’t let him be right. _

 

There is a silent scream in his head now after coming down from an  _ arabesque _ , an alarm quiet but loud as his vision fades. Yuuri blinked and willed it away, transitioning into a step and got ready for a grand jeté. He jumped with a sharp intake of breath, knowing this will be a failure,  _ his _ failure. 

 

When his body slammed down against the waxed floor, there was a scream. Another scream, not in his head. Real. 

  
But he could only see black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: HEY IT’S OKAY IT’S OKAY YOU’RE WELCOME, FOR THE FEAR, THE FEELS, THE PAIN. 
> 
> HEY IT’S OKAY IT’S OKAY, I’M DEAD TOO. SO WE’RE ALL ON THE SAME ANGSTY BOAT.
> 
> It's very good to see you all getting bloodthirsty for Ivan's pain and suffering, I am enjoying it. No ankle breaking or murder (yet, maybe, I don't know) but Ivan's most important thing is his pride so we'll see later.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fears and best wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this one is rather late guys! It’s been a hectic week since I have to travel for my sister’s wedding and didn’t have much time to write, but hope this is enough to sort of cover my tardiness? Fingers crossed. 
> 
> I really want to answer all your comments and cheer from last chapter but I'm impatient for you guys to have the next chapter, but always keep in mind that I adore and appreciate all the love you send this way <3 
> 
> There are mentions of panic attack in this chapter, if you are uncomfortable with it you can skip past the first section and start at the section after the divider line.

The room is cold. Cold, as if he forgot to pull on the blanket before he went to sleep. Yuuri tried to move, extending his hand to find the blanket in his sleep, but soon found that he couldn’t move his arm. Either of them. Or any part of his body. If there was a good time to panic, this is it, but Yuuri found he couldn’t care less, his mind felt like a cotton ball and he couldn’t think further than it being cold. There was a buzzing noise surrounding him that slowly cleared up to be words, conversations he couldn’t really understand and he furrowed his brows trying to know. A hand was placed on his forehead, patting him slowly to ease whatever expression he had on his face and after a moment, he relented. With his body still immobile, he let the silence that followed coax him back to unconsciousness. 

 

The next time consciousness came to Yuuri, it was to an incessant beeping beside his head and he tried to swat at the annoying device, hoping to hit the alarm’s stop button without having to get up. It seems that that very activity was impossible as his hand only moved three centimetres to the right, falling onto a slightly scratchy fabric. Alarms inside Yuuri’s head decided to blare at the unfamiliarity, he fought to open his heavy eyelids and managed to open just a sliver to see bright sunlight. 

 

_ Where? _

 

This wasn’t his room, the sun’s direction is wrong, the bed is wrong, the pillow is wrong, the smell is wrong,  _ so where?  _

 

Yuuri’s eye cooperated more at the urgency of the situation and he forced his entire body to sit up. When his sight cleared as much as it could without his glasses, the danseur found himself alone in a beige colored hospital room tucked into the hospital bed with an IV drip in his arm and connected to a heart monitor.  _ Why?  _

 

He can hear the heart monitor’s beeping rising with every second with the thumping in his chest, a constricting force suffocating him and his vision began to blur. 

 

_ What happened, why is he here? _

 

_ He’s not supposed to be here.  _

 

_ He doesn’t have time to waste, he doesn’t have time to be a lazy.   _

 

_ He doesn’t have time to-  _

 

The door slides open in a single snap and a nurse comes running in shouting orders in Russian that Yuuri couldn’t have the mind to catch. The nurse touched his arm moved her mouth but Yuuri didn’t catch what she said, only the vague shape of a word moving rapidly in his sight before he caught a sharp sting. The nurse and he watched the needle that was just injected into the nook of his elbow, “Calm down Mr. Katsuki, it’s okay, calm down and take deep breaths with me,” she made exaggerated breathing motions that Yuuri struggles to follow, “Slowly with me, that’s it, take it slow.” 

 

“I didn’t want you to go into a full attack with how weak your body is,” she explained, “That’s why I had to administer the medicine, but I need you to calm down with me,  _ da _ ?” 

 

Yuuri nodded weakly, accepting the grounding comfort from the nurse rubbing his back in slow circles. He took one, two, three, and more deep breaths, slowing his heart rate significantly until he raised his eyes to the door the nurse came from. Viktor stood by the entrance, a hand covering his mouth in shock, pain and pity in his eyes as he took one step into the room.

 

_ Viktor?  _

 

_ No. _

 

_ He saw.  _

 

_ He knows.  _

 

_ His weakness, his failure. _

 

Immediately, Yuuri panicked. 

 

“Sir, I must ask you to leave the room, now! Please!” Viktor stopped, mouth open to say something, but the nurse simply pushed him out and shut the door in his face, leaving him outside the room. Yuuri doesn’t calm down for 5 minutes. 

 

* * *

 

Lilia arrived back to the hospital after leaving Yuuri’s care with Viktor, she took the fastest route home to shower and change after rushing to the hospital when Viktor called early in the morning. 

 

“I found him just as he collapsed. He fell after trying to do a grand jeté, the security guard said he’s been there since the early afternoon. Lilia, what really happened?” Viktor had a wretched face when the ex-prima had arrived to the quiet room, watching her protégé lay still on the hospital bed. Pale, near breathless, and death like. Her heart clenches at the sight, not noticing that Viktor had came to her side and placed a steadying hand on her back, guiding her to a plastic chair beside the bed. 

 

Lilia stayed silent, keeping a close watch on Yuuri to make sure he was there. Viktor stayed a comforting presence until Lilia deemed it time for him to go home, “I’ll stay Lilia, it’s fine. I’m worried about him.” 

 

“And Yuratchka would be worried if you weren’t home. Go,” the man was ready to argue but Lilia stopped him, “Come back in the morning, then we’ll talk. Don’t forget to call your coach.” Viktor reluctantly agreed, pausing to watch Yuuri breathe and listen to the heart monitor before kissing Lilia’s cheeks in goodbye, promising to arrive early the next morning after taking care of Yuri.

 

Viktor arrived that morning as promised, holding a cup of freshly brewed coffee for the ex-prima, “Go home and change Lilia, I’ll watch him. Promise.” So Lilia did. 

 

The sanitized corridor of the hospital is something Lilia had no fondness of as her heels clicked all the way to Yuuri’s room. Viktor had wisely chosen a private room, something she had to thank him later. She turned a corner and found the said man sitting on a row of waiting chairs outside the room, head in his hands and hunched over his knees. The door to Yuuri’s room was closed shut, but she can hear voices from inside. 

 

“Is Yuuri awake?” Viktor jumped at her voice, surprised reflected on his face, and deep etched worry, “What’s wrong, what happened to Yuuri?” 

 

“I- I don’t know, he- the nurse came in running because his heart monitor was going crazy,” deep breath, “She said something about breathing and panic attacks. I thought he’d calm down after a few minutes, but then he- he saw me and it got worse.” 

 

Viktor raised his eyes to meet hers, uncertainty and fear, “Why? I- I hope I did nothing wrong, but he looked...pained and the nurse yelled at me to get out.” 

 

Lilia rubbed her temples, she shouldn’t have left after all. “It’s not your fault Vitya, Yuuri has some… anxiety problems, he was probably uncomfortable you saw him in this state. It would be the same with anyone Vitya.” Her words seemed to do little to ease the worry in Viktor, but it wasn’t time to dwell on it yet. Lilia gave the man a warm pat on the head before facing the hospital room’s door, she knocked sharply on the door and slide it open, the nurse was inside as she guessed and she looked ready to chase her away but Yuuri held her away. 

 

Lilia took it as an invitation to enter and went straight to Yuuri’s side, she took Yuuri’s face into her hands softly and stared into his tear filled eyes, “Are you feeling better Yuuri?” 

 

The danseur choked a sob and leaned his entire body weight onto the ex-prima who took him into a strong embrace, trying to calm the shivers and crying that wrecks through her protégé. The nurse looked conflicted but decided to leave her patient to someone he seems to know well and left the room, saying quietly that she will inform the doctor of the situation. Lilia acknowledged it with a nod and focused on calming her armful of Yuuri, whispering softly over the loud sobs that made little sense. Yuuri was apologising, again and again and again. Each apology followed by a shiver of his body, curling deeper into himself, making him smaller and more fragile. The ex-prima tightened her hold of her pupil, something had transpired, something bad that had sent Yuuri on this destructive path, something that Lilia a seasoned veteran in the field of performing arts and all its pressure  had failed to prevent. 

 

It angered her. 

 

It made her blood boil. 

 

* * *

 

Viktor was finally allowed into the room after a doctor finished a check up on Yuuri, the results were not satisfying - with exhaustion, dehydration, pulled muscles, multiple fractured toes, and a dangerously low blood pressure and iron content - but all in all Yuuri was much better condition than yesterday. The only other thing now is that he refused to speak a word. 

 

Viktor had listened with a pained heart as Yuuri sobbed multiple apologies at Lilia from outside the room, when it had stopped the doctor arrived and it was another 10 minutes of waiting. He walked in the room expecting a slight improvement to Yuuri’s feeling because of Lilia’s presence, but one look at her face ruined all expectation, “Lilia? Yuuri?” 

 

Lilia’s lips were pressed thinner than a paper and her brows more furrowed than Viktor has ever seen, that counts the first day he had trained with the ex-prima. At her silence, Viktor walked slowly to Yuuri’s other side of the bed in hope he could coax him into a short conversation, but what greeted him were a pair of faded brown eyes, once so clear and bright, and more silence. 

 

“He won’t speak. He won’t say anything more than to apologise.” Viktor snapped his head back to the older woman, eyes wide in disbelief, “The doctor tried to speak to him but he wouldn’t say a word. Vitya, help him.” The silent plea in the ex-prima’s words were shocking that he had to double take, but this situation is worse than expected. He has to find Yuuri practising till his body and mind broke, and now this.  _ Oh Yuuri, my heart can’t stand the pain you feel.  _

 

“Yuuri, hey you beautiful, t- talk to me? How are you feeling?” The Russian living legend took the danseur’s hands into his, “Your hands are really cold Yuuri, you’ll have to warm them up. Can I help with that?” 

 

Silence. Averted eyes. 

 

“Okay, okay, that’s okay. Shall I get you something warm to drink instead? Tea? Coffee? No, that’s a bad idea, how about hot chocolate instead?” 

 

Silence. Averted eyes. 

 

“Yuuri, do you want to look at Makkachin and Yuri’s photos? They were so cute yesterday, say yes or- or even nod and I’ll show it to you.” 

 

Silence. Averted eyes. 

 

Viktor’s heart ached. 

 

* * *

 

“Tanya, where are we going? Aren’t we going home to papa?” 

 

The elderly woman smiled kindly and brushed a stray hair from Yuri’s face, “You’re papa isn’t at your home at the moment  _ moy mal’chik _ , he’s at the hospital with a friend and we’re going to help your papa cheer him up.” Yuri tilted his head to the side in confusion but Tanya said nothing else until they arrived at a big and white building, tall glass panels on the ground floor showed the busy traffic of people that afternoon. 

 

“I know it’s going to be a bit difficult my dear boy, but be good okay? Let’s go find your papa.” The young boy had held on to Tanya’s hand the whole way up the lift and through several white corridors, clearly confused by everything but not letting in on it. 

 

Yuri saw his papa sit on some chairs at the last stretch of corridor and ran to greet him, “Papa! Yura and Makkachin miss you!” 

 

His father had pulled him into a hug and smiled into his hair, “I miss you too Yuratchka. I’m sorry you had to come all the way here Tanya.” 

 

The kind neighbour waved his words away, “Don’t be silly Vitya, I hope your friend feels better soon. I’ll need to head back and make sure my Zhenya doesn’t try and feed your Makkachin a whole pirozhki again.” Her effort to lighten the mood worked slightly and both father and son waved goodbye with a smile, Yuri still confused with a number of things. 

 

“Yura,” Viktor started, “I know you like Yuuri a lot, yes?” 

 

Yuri nodded, it was an obvious thing, why did papa had to ask? 

 

“Well, Yuuri isn’t feeling very well at the moment and is feeling… down. Sad. So when you see him, give him all your love okay?” 

 

“Why is Yuuri sad? Yuuri shouldn’t be sad, Yuuri always smiles!” 

 

His father only had a sad smile to give him, “I know  _ zvezdochka _ , but he’s not smiling at the moment. But don’t force him okay or Yuuri will be more sad because he can’t smile?” Yuri shook and nodded his head forcefully, not wanting to upset Yuuri further. 

 

“Good boy Yuratchka, now Lilia is inside, so make sure you greet her too.” 

 

Yuri nodded and his papa helped him open the door to where Yuuri is and as instructed the boy greeted Lilia with peck on both her cheeks before rushing to Yuuri’s bedside. His favorite ballet teacher looked down when he called his name, “Yuuri! Papa told me to give you lot’s of love, so I’m giving it to you!” The boy launched himself as fast but as gentle as possible onto the danseur’s midriff, hugging him as tightly as his short arms could. 

 

At first, Lilia and Viktor watched with worry that even Yuri won’t have an effect on the Japanese, but slowly, the thin blurred veil lifted slightly from the man’s eyes as he watched Yuri. And slowly, he raised an arm to return the boy’s hug, still silent, but affectionate. For the first time in the long day, Lilia and Viktor took a breath of relief. 

  
Perhaps, just perhaps, the tide would change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m sorry if there are any medical incorrectness, I am not trained medically nor am I familiar with medicine that deals with panic attacks. I only hope to convey Yuuri’s currently unstable state of mind without being too badly off course in representation. It is not in my intention to be incorrect, but I sincerely hope I don’t offend anyone. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter though, keep sending your kudos and comments up this way!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little by little we heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone forgot, Mr. McDouche’s name is Ivan Chernov (im sorry if any of you are called Ivan or Chernov, no harm meant ;D) 
> 
> I've decided to make a [ Ko-Fi ](http://ko-fi.com/noitratoxin) page, so if you guys enjoy my writings do consider sending a coffee or two my way to help me get a pair of computer glasses. If you prefer commissions contact me on tumblr or discord and I'll see how I can help you <3 
> 
> [EDITED so badly because I am a shit beta to myself]

Although things may have seemed improved when Yuri came, it has not really changed much since then. Yuri only seemed to tackle the problem that is tip of the iceberg, as when Yuuri was told to do absolutely nothing and only focus on bed rest - to which he looked appalled at - he silently expressed his dissatisfaction only to return to an expressionless mask soon after. The danseur had also refused to eat anything, from the soft gruel and fruit bowl that was brought in later in the afternoon, to everything Viktor or Lilia had offered. Yuri had frowned and nagged and pulled at the danseur to eat _something_ but Yuuri remained silent.

 

This wasn’t working. Viktor had _begged_ him to eat something, “You can’t get better like this Yuuri, don’t you want to get back on your feet? Please.”

 

The danseur looked at him, at Yuri, and then at Lilia who had stayed silent only to say, “I’m sorry.”

 

This continued for a few hours.

Yuri had climbed onto the hospital bed and sat cuddled in Yuuri’s lap when it was obvious Yuuri couldn’t and wouldn’t move around anytime soon, the boy played with the hem of the danseur’s hospital gown and hummed to himself. Viktor can only watch with envy, while the only thing he seemed to do was aggravate the danseur, all Yuri had to do was arrive and the Japanese man immediately improved. Lilia had left to find something for Yuri and them to eat that wasn’t cardboard sandwich so Viktor sat at the plastic chair simply contemplating his uselessness when the sense of someone staring at him prickled at his neck. He looked up to find Yuuri staring at him, eyes still glazed over but he somehow seemed more relaxed.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

…

 

“Do you want to have a bite of food?”

 

…

 

“Shall I turn on the TV?”

 

…

 

Yuuri bent his head down to whisper shortly to Yuri, the boy nodded quietly and the quiet request, “Papa, Yuuri said thank you.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yuuri said thank you,” Yuri repeated with a pointed look, almost like he was exasperated at how slow his father can get. The said man had curled himself closer to Yuri when Viktor stayed still to process the words and whispered again, the boy frowned but repeated the same, “Now Yuuri said sorry.”

 

Finally realizing what Yuuri was trying to say, Viktor springed to his feet and went to sit at the edge of Yuuri’s bed. “Yuuri, oh Yuuri, no, don’t apologise it’s okay. I know, it’s okay, please don’t apologize to me.”

 

He took the one of the danseur’s hand in his, holding it firmly but gently to make sure he understood his point, “I don’t know what happened and I don’t know how to make you feel better but I don’t want you to apologize for something that isn’t your fault,” the danseur averted his eyes once again but Viktor pressed on, “I only want you feel better Yuuri, knowing that I am here for you with Yuratchka and Lilia and everyone else.”

 

“I have had my bouts of desperation, skating non-stop at the rink trying to prove to the ice and the world that I am worth my skills. I have ruined my feet, my body, so many times that even Yakov can’t keep count and it- it took time to realize that you are not alone in this, that you _don’t_ have to ruin yourself to prove a point,” both Yuris had their eyes trained on him as the former skater spoke, giving him an undivided attention, “I don’t dare to say I understand what you’re going through but Yuuri, we are here. Please. Let us help.”

 

“Papa,” Yuri called, “Don’t cry.”

 

Viktor hadn’t noticed the moisture that had collected in his eyes, blinking it away in surprise, “Oh no, papa isn’t going to cry Yura, I’m okay.”

 

Yuuri let out a choked sob as he slowly raised his hand to gently wipe the tears from Viktor’s eyes, silently comforting him even though _he_ was supposed to be comforted. But the softness of Yuuri’s palm was so inviting that Viktor nuzzled into it instinctively while Yuri was more confused than ever, looking at his father and instructor back and forth. “Noooo,” he whined, “Stop crying, nobody cries when Yura is here!”

 

Viktor huffed a laugh and ruffled Yuri’s hair, “Sorry Yura, we’ll try not to okay?” Yuuri was silent but he nodded in agreement and both father and son took a sharp intake of breath. Yuuri was _smiling_.

 

* * *

 

The next two days passed in a blur, Sophie and Pyotr came to visit as soon as they could and the ballerina had bawled her eyes out with Yuuri in her death embrace. Pyotr had a worried face but was calmer in expressing his concern, which Yuuri appreciated greatly while having his hands full with calming Sophie. The woman cried, sobbed and along the way cursed everything and anything that made Yuuri sad, luck was on the danseur’s side because Yuri wasn’t with them. When they left for practice, Sophie and Pyotr made a point to recite their phone numbers to Yuuri and sticky note it all over Yuuri’s bed because he was an idiot for not calling either of them to talk in the first place, the nurse was undeniably entertained at the number of paper on her patient if not annoyed.

The late afternoon of that day Yakov came by with Viktor and Yuri, he was gruff but nonetheless gentle when he pressed a bouquet of lavender and elderflower at the danseur, mumbling something along the line of how lavender helps with relaxing. Yuuri accepted it with a small smile and sat in surprise when Yakov placed a container of warm stroganoff on his lap, demanding him to eat with a single look. So he did, slowly, but he did.

 

Yuri, as he had for the last few days, climbed into the danseur’s lap and settled in easily. The boy brought over a book and begged Yuuri to read to him, effectively making the man speak to him without forcing him (too much) and both Lilia and Viktor approved of it immensely. Speaking of the ex-prima, she had announced that she won’t be at the hospital today as she had a prior engagement, but the way she said it seemed like she was getting ready to lead an army - which lead to Yuuri’s worry. When he managed to ask, Viktor shook his head and Yakov only looked pale, he hope it’s not anything… bad?

 

As the danseur was already off painkillers and only has an IV hooked up to replenish fluid and vitamins, he was getting stronger by the day but still tired most of the time. He had asked just yesterday to call his student’s parents to apologise that he had to postpone the classes again, almost falling into another attack until Viktor took the task off him, although Yuuri had insisted he apologise personally. Thankfully none reacted badly aside from one or two scoffs, but all ended well nonetheless. Yuuri now lays back on the hospital bed with Yuri still on his lap, both breathing deep and slow as they fell asleep and Viktor stood from his seat to talk to Yakov.

 

“I’m… curious about something so I’m going to the Bolshoi for a moment, can you look after them while I’m gone?” Yakov huffed and settled deeper into his creaky plastic chair.

 

“Don’t be too long, Yura won’t be asleep for long,” Viktor nodded and went for the door when his mentor called him back, “If you find Lilia, make sure to tell her she needs three people.”

 

“Three people?”

 

“Or more, just do it Vitya.”

 

 _Right_.

 

Message received, Viktor drove to the Bolshoi and parked easily in the sparsely filled car park before heading in to find Lilia but on his way, he was stopped by the female night guard that helped him in a few days ago, “Is he alright?” her genuine concern leaked into the question and Viktor smiled in return.

“He’s healing now, slowly but surely. Thank you for your help.”

She waved her off and turned her eyes away, “It’s partly my fault anyway, I should have told him to go home earlier but we know he’s used to training until late with Chernov…”

 

“I have a feeling he wouldn’t stop even if you did, so don’t worry too much,” the man looked past her shoulder to find people rushing from one place to another, “What’s going on?”

 

“Hmm? Oh, Madame Baranovskaya arrived earlier and she wasn’t very pleased, I think they’re heading to watch the show.”

 

 _Right_ . _Okay_.

 

“Can you point me to where it is then?” A clacking of keys took his attention. “You’ll need a pass to get in but I’ll give special consideration for you, come on.” She led him to a flat door that blended in with the wall and tapped her pass on the side access port before the door swung open.

 

“Dasha! I think it’s best you head over to Madame Baranovskaya, I don’t know what Chernov did but she didn’t look very happy with him.” The words of a passing staff were a loud welcome when they entered the corridor and Dasha, who seemed to be the guard sighed and nodded, “I’m heading over now! How many people has she got?”

 

“Three but there are more crowding outside the room.”

 

“That’s more than enough I suppose.” She muttered under her breath.

 

“Sorry, but I’m not catching any of this.”

 

Viktor was met with a small wince, “You’ll see.”

 

_Right._

 

* * *

 

It took two days to get Yuuri to say more than apologies to her. It took an additional ten hour of coaxing to get him to explain what happened. It took 2 hours of him coaxing _her_ to calm down after he was done.

 

Lilia had been angry before in her life, to state the obvious, but never has she seen more red than that night. “It wasn’t- It wasn’t anyone fault, it’s just I wasn’t good enou-” Yuuri had started but Lilia snapped.

 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

 

“But madame, look at me, I’ve done nothing but inconvenience you and-”

 

Lilia  threatened to call his family that very moment if he didn’t stop, “I’ll even call Miss Okukawa.” That shut her student up pretty fast but she doesn’t understand his aversion to call his family about such a serious matter, he’s _hospitalised_ for Lord’s sake. _I promise to call them Madame, but not now, please_ , he had said and so Lilia relented. The how, who and why related in this… incident is replayed in her head every hour and death seemed too easy of a punishment for Ivan.

 

Calling Ivan to the Bolshoi was easy enough, there is no pride or courage one would have to refuse a call from Lilia Baranoskaya if they treasure their position. Sophie and Pyotr, coming straight from the afternoon practice, were both fidgeting impatiently in one corner of the room while Ekaterina and her stands by the _barre_ that faces the door. “I can’t apologise enough Lilia, you’ve told me everything about Ivan but I still failed to keep him from Yuuri.” Ekaterina was beyond upset and angry at the news, but Lilia had had enough of apologies.

 

“I understand Katya, but I’m afraid we need more than a stern warning this time.”

 

Ekaterina nodded, “I have the board’s agreement, as more people have come up to witness and defend your protégé after further investigation, they became really easy to convince. Whatever Yuuri or your decision is will be supported, Ivan won’t have any future with the Bolshoi from here now on.”

 

The ex-prima accepted the assurance and settled to wait until Yuuri’s friends fidgeting become more prominent to the state of annoying, “What is it?” she snapped sharply.

 

“Pardon us madam, but- but what are we needed for… here?” Lilia watched the ballerina freeze under her stare and contemplated her answer, “As witness.”

 

“I- witness?”

 

Ekaterina barked a laugh and shocked the two dancers in the room, “Lia, you need to elaborate or else they’ll think of the worst.”

 

“It is but a fact,” the ex-prima huffed and having Ekaterina Gordisyeva, a high ranked executive, laughing did not ease the nerves in the room.

 

“Madame Baranovskaya will be showing you first handedly how a dancer will be expelled in the Bolshoi theatre, watch and learn, then you’ll see why we need...witnesses.”

 

 _Right_.

 

“How many people have you expelled Lilia?”

 

“Five.”

 

 _Right_.

 

That’s why there’s a crowd gathering outside.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take much longer for the premier danseur to arrive. Ivan strode confidently through the corridors of the theatre, not missing the looks and whispers headed at him though it did little to affect him. Madame Baranovskaya had called him in personally, obviously to talk about her trouble making useless little protégé, but no one suited the position as premier danseur more than him and he wasn’t about to be replaced by _that thing_. That Katsuki must have gone and blabbered to the woman again, what a useless twat, couldn’t even fight his own battle, how does he expect to stand in the position of the premier danseur. The executives must have been crazy to have recruited him from Detroit. But that matters not, Ivan has more than enough argument to prove his point if the ex-prima tries anything.

 

The corridor to the training room he had been called to was filled with people, most flocking like pigeons to breadcrumbs to said room. He lifted his head higher in pride when people moved out of his way, enjoying the respect that his status brought him and pushed the heavy doors open to enter, finding Executive Gordisyeva, Madame Baranoskaya, and two of Katsuki’s sympathizer. Ivan merely scoffed at the sight of the last two.

 

“Madames, a pleasure. To what do I owe this occasion? I assure you training for the _children_ are going well.” He sees how Katsuki’s friends twitched at being ignored and took pleasure in it.

 

Lilia looks displeased with that resting bitch face but when hasn’t been displeased, and what is a prima past her prime going to do? Nothing.

 

“Oh yes, I’m sure you enjoyed helping our _novices_ with their training. How is suspension going for you Ivan?” It was Ivan’s turn to twitch, so it was her after all, her and her scheming crony that will ruin the Bolshoi with her pest of a protégé. _Ridiculous_. “I’m sure you are enjoying it, but I’m afraid all good things must end sooner or later, you will find it would be sooner for you.”

 

What is she scheming now? He looked over to Gordisyeva, her mouth pressed thin and various pairs of burning eyes directed at him. “What is the meaning of this?” The hiss that came out from him was only but a warning. People are outside the room trying to listen to the small window and wooden door and it’s starting to grate on his nerves, the only time he saw anything like this happen is a role announcement or…

 

“You wouldn’t dare! I am Bolshoi’s **_pride_ ** , I am the premier danseur and you cannot-”

 

“Ivan Mikhailovich Chernov, the Bolshoi does not and will not accept a foul hearted and minded person in the house of art and expression. Because of your horrendous treatment of your fellow danseur, mentally and physically confirmed by your colleagues, from today onwards, you will no longer be associated with the theatre or any of it’s branch, so consider yourself relieved from suspension and your roles.

 

“Empty your locker Ivan and the office will contact you for the dismissal.”

 

Gasp rang across the room and outside as the final words ended its syllables, the temperature dropped several degrees and rose in the next few seconds as the fact settles for Ivan. Pyotr had ran from the side of the room just in time to stop him from lunging forward, seething and boiling.

 

“How dare you! I am the premier danseur, I am the face of this theatre and you come in with your repulsive so called protégé and expect me to just let you do what you want?! You bring an _outsider_ into my theatre and expect me to accept that he will replace me, that slimy son of a bitch couldn’t even fight for himself and now you show me such disrespect!”

 

“Enough! You are overstepping your boundaries and making this worse for yourself, take your leave Ivan.” Ivan continues to struggle against the other danseur, hissing and clawing at the two woman in the middle of the room and it turned worse at Ekaterina’s words. Lilia had stayed silent but her clenched fist told a different story, it would only take a little more provocation for her silence to break and that’s what Ekaterina would like to avoid.

 

“Fuck all of you! I am the best danseur in this institution and that slimy bastard couldn’t even stand up without falling over!” Ivan spat , eyes staring with hate at anyone in the room, sneering, “He’s so weak he had to be _hospitalised_ , a useless piece of scum and I’d find immense pleasure to break his leg myself-” With a burst of strength, he pushed Pyotr away from him and raged towards Lilia when the door opened with a loud bang and all eyes turned the newcomer, but before anyone could react, Ivan was dragged back by the collar one second and slammed to the floor with a fist to the face by Viktor Nikiforov the next.

  
The danseur was dragged back up to his feet and had a face full of an angry Russian, “Try it,” Viktor hissed, “and I’ll break **_yours_ ** myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yeah nah, that’s all for this chapter ;D 
> 
> I’m sure a lot of people expect me to go a bit more with dealing with Ivan, but the suggested murder of bodily harm is often frowned upon in society and consider how Yuuri would feel if something like that happened. Lilia has done her best to protect Yuuri and a public expulsion is the worst for a danseur, hope it’s enough <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are looking to the brightside. And a lollipop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I am swooning with all the support and all the comments from you all last chapter, I'm so glad it worked well! And who's to say no to hot-father-Nikiforov being protective amirite ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> I want to send Phichit with magical author powers to bundle Yuuri up and give him the world, but... previous planning gets into the way. Enjoy this one on me for I am going to enjoy my 21st bday this Sunday <3

Yuuri blinked slowly into consciousness when noises became louder in the room, he tried to stretch on the bed when he felt a weight on his torso making him huff in sleepy amusement as he was met with Yura’s sleeping face. He blinked again as Yakov’s stressed sentences bleed into his ears, but not catching anything clear from the hushed (no matter how loud) conversation he is having over the phone.

 

The door to the room was left slightly ajar and when the older man turned around in coincidence, Yuuri could see his face was red with tension and veins were popping out on his forehead, it would’ve been funny if he wasn’t worried for the older man. “I don’t care he was being an unconceivable ass, you are a grown man Vitya you can’t just-”

 

A pause as Yakov’s face turned redder and redder, “That son of a- No, Vitya, calm down and listen just come back here… No, no, come back now Viktor Alexandrovich and leave Lilia to do the rest!” The snarl like noise that came from the man surprised Yuuri, but it seemed to have worked on… Viktor? Because then Yakov calmed down a degree and spoke in lower volumes.

 

The sleepiness that clung to him now dissipated and he slowly sat back up, careful not to jostle the still sleeping boy. He reached to the left for a cup of water, sipping on it slowly as Yakov returned to the room, closing the door with a huff. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

 

His question seemed to startled the old mentor a little although it didn’t last long when Yakov sat harshly on the chair beside the bed, “Nothing for you to worry about. Drink more.”

 

Yuuri huffed but followed his words, placing the cup back on the bedside table when he was finished. The nurse came in a moment later with light dinner for Yuuri and that roused Yuri from his nap, grumbling all the way until the nurse handed him a pink and green lollipop, then he was smiling like christmas came early, “Don’t you have one for Yuuri too?” he pouted later and the nurse obligingly pulled out another one to pass to the danseur as she laughed. The food was left mostly untouched aside from the three bites that Yakov and Yuri forced on him, they relented after realising Yuuri had a good serving of stroganoff just earlier. Before the nurse cleared the food out Yuuri whispered to the boy and Yuri nodded seriously and a moment later Yakov sat with a red face and a purple lollipop in his hand.  

 

Viktor and Lilia arrived to two Yuris barely containing their laughter in while Yakov refused to speak a word of explanation. The danseur looked at both the newcomers with worry - Lilia because she had been away the whole day, Viktor because the redness and scratched on one of his hands.

 

“Sh- should I ask?”

 

“No,” was the consensus.

 

_Right._

 

Since locked lips seems to be the trend in this room at the moment, Yuuri unwrapped his lollipop and placed it in his mouth, the last few days was hectic enough that he finally cut himself some slack as he enjoyed the sugar globe. He didn’t realise he was humming a tune until he caught Viktor’s eyes dead on him and even then he tilted his head to the side in question before stopping himself in embarrassment. Yuuri pulled out the lollipop with a pop of his lips, cheeks and ears gaining color, “I’m sorry, didn’t realise I was humming.”

 

Viktor seemed to stare at him in a daze, then Yakov and Lilia gave him to smacks to the head and he choked on air before reacting while licking his dry lips, “N-no, by all means, no. Please continue.”

 

Yuri shook his head at his father, “Papa you’re _so_ embarrassing.”

 

* * *

 

Yakov, Viktor, and Yuri left for the night an hour later, leaving Lilia and Yuri in the room with the TV playing in the background. Lilia was flicking through a fashion magazine when Yuuri spoke up, “What happens now Lilia? The Bolshoi must be displeased with me, am I still allowed to train with you?”

 

The ex-prima set the magazine aside with a sigh, “Yuuri,” her exasperation crystal in her tone, “The Bolshoi is not happy but not at you. I suppose it’s about time I tell you what happened today.”

 

The danseur who shrinked at the start now looked at his mentor with confusion, “What do you mean?”

 

“Ivan is expelled.”

 

“I- what?”

 

“Ivan is expelled from the Bolshoi for his misconduct and his disrespect of the company and his colleagues. He can’t get to you anymore Yuuri.” Yuuri’s breathing had increased at the mention of Ivan and being _expelled_ made it worse. Lilia read her charge like a book, “This is a consequence of his own actions, it is only unfortunate we would learn of his behaviour from what happened to you.”

 

“It’s not my fault?”

 

“Of course not you silly boy, it never has been and never will be,” the relief that bloomed on Yuuri’s face was worth every effort to make sure that bastard never steps foot into the theatre again. “Nikita will be replacing Ivan, so we won’t have any problem.”

 

“Nikita Turskovo?” The light that entered her protégé’s eyes were a welcome surprise so Lilia nodded, “I first saw him perform in Coppelia and I love his movements, music seemed to be a good friend of his.”

 

Lilia nodded again in satisfaction, Yuuri was getting better each day both physically and mentally, he participated in conversation and didn’t hesitate in starting one.

 

“But Lilia…”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You came back with Viktor today and his hand… did something happen?” Worry resonated from Yuuri and knowing what really happened would somehow distress him even more, so it was the safe route for Lilia, at least for the moment, “You can ask him yourself later.”

 

“But before that, Yuuri,” she took a deep breath, “You’ve avoided your family long enough. It’s time you call them, they deserve to know what happened.” Yuuri looked at her for a long time and she was expecting more resistance but eventually he nodded, eyes cast down, “I understand, I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready before but you’re right, they deserve to know. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

 

The ex-prima sighed, it’s been a few days but it doesn’t seem Yuuri’s apology would stop soon. “I don’t need your apology Yuuri, I’d prefer you to get better instead,” her protégé looked slightly confused at her words but she shook her head and rose from her seat, “I’ll leave you to call your family, but don’t stay up too late.”

 

Lilia was one step away from the door when she heard Yuuri call out, “Lilia… Thank you.”

 

_Much better._

 

“You are most welcome Yuuri.”

 

* * *

 

The bed dipped further as Yuuri settled into the bed, leaning back onto several arranged pillows as he allowed himself to relax. Things are by no means fine and dandy after everything that happened and Lilia’s right, he’s can only avoid telling his family for so long before they worry and call him themselves and after that it wouldn’t be long until Phichit hops along the worry train. Yuuri picked up his phone on the bedside table and turned on the display to a picture of his old poodle Vicchan and him a few years before the dog passed away, he smiled nostalgically at the memory and oh how he misses the warmth and love from the old pup.  He shook his head to focus and opened the chat application, found his sister’s account and pressed the call button.

 

The line rang a few times before Mari’s voice came through with a click, “Yuuri?”

 

Hearing his sister’s immediately worried tone brings tears to his eyes and a warm pressure on his chest, “ _Mari-neesan_.”

 

“What’s wrong scrub? We were getting worried, you haven’t called for almost a week, are you alright?” By the slightly slurred way it was spoken, Yuuri was hit with a sense of guilt - it was around eight pm in St. Petersburg which means it’s two in the morning in Japan but his sister woke up for him anyway, his voice broke slightly when he breathed her name again, “Nee-san, I’m sorry.”  

 

When Yuuri finished retelling what occurred the last few days Mari was on the verge of panic, “What about now? Are you better now? Do you need me there? Do you need mom? I’ll wake her up- no, we can get her there instead.”

 

Yuuri’s laughter surprised both of them, but it didn’t take a moment for Mari to snap, “Yuuri, this isn’t funny!”

 

He tried to stifle his laughter in fear for his safety and wiped a stray tear from the side of his eyes, “Sorry nee-san, it’s fine - I’m fine, you don’t have to call mom or send here here. I’m getting better, so it wouldn’t be too long until I’m discharged.”

 

“I’m not kidding you twerp, just say the word and we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

 

“I know, I know. Thank you nee-san.”

 

“You need to look after yourself better or I’ll tell Vicchan you were a bad boy, you know I will,” Yuuri can picture his sister wagging a finger in his face and stopped himself from laughing again, “Oh no, please don’t tell Vicchan.” Mari huffed on the line and there was a telltale hidden yawn, making Yuuri feel guilty again.

 

“Go to sleep Mari-nee, I’ll be fine now. You need to wake up early tomorrow don’t you?” Mari hesitated for a minute, not wanting to leave her brother alone again but relented in the end.

 

“I’ll have pa and ma call you back tomorrow so you better pick up okay?” Yuuri agreed so Mari went back to sleep and Yuuri back to the silence of the room. He stared back at the clock display of his phone and thought it was better now than later to call one more person, he needed a good minute to prepare before opening the chat app again.

 

.

.

.

 

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me earlier! Yuuri do you know how much I worried? I called you several times too but you didn’t answer and heck now you tell me that fucking bastard hurt you?! _My_ Yuuri is hurt!”

 

“Phichit…”

 

“I’m going there now.”

 

“Phichit…”

 

“Celestino will let me go willingly, I’ll find that fucking Ivan and I’ll make him pay-”

 

“Phichit…”

 

“My ยาย ( _yaai_ ) didn’t teach me _muay thai_ for nothing Yuuri, I’ll show that bastard.”

 

“Phichit, it’s fine. Lilia made sure he’s not coming back to the Bolshoi and I’m fine too, I just needed… time, I suppose. I knew I should have talked to you or anyone else really, but I wasn’t-”

 

“Yuuri, Yuuri hey it’s okay. It’s okay, not your fault alright? I just wish I was there with you, maybe I should ask Ciao Ciao to move rink there.”

 

“Don’t be stupid, both of you would complain about the cold and fly back in a heartbeat.”

 

“I- yeah, but not a heartbeat!” Phichit argued, “At least a week there for you, then sweet escape.”

 

“You’re ridiculous.”

 

“And you love me anyway.” Yes, Yuuri does indeed.

 

Phichit’s serious tone brought Yuuri back to the situation at hand, “I’m not joking Yuuri, I’ll fly out there tomorrow if you say it. This is important, you are important to me, please don’t forget okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Good. Now tell me about Viktor.”

 

“What?”

 

“Viktor Nikiforov you silly! How did he find you?” Phichit can feel Yuuri’s flush thousands of miles away. “I- uh- He only told me Lilia called him to help look for me and that’s about it? I don’t uh… remember much.”

 

“Yuuri… do you think he princess carried you?”

 

The long groan that comes after threw Phichit into laughter, even as Yuuri was more than ready to skip the topic, “I mean _surely_ he tried to carry you out the building.”

 

“Or he could have waited for the ambulance to arrive.”

 

“So he had you in his laps instead? Imagine it Yuuri, Viktor holding you close in his arms, on his lap, fingers running softly over your face to check on you, what a vision.”

 

“ _Stooooooop_.”

 

“Oh also-”

 

“ _Nooooo_.”

 

The skater let his friend go easy with only a few more tease, “I really wish I’m there Yuuri,” Yuuri hummed in reply, “But it’s late you renegade, go to sleep! Don’t let me catch you on instagram or I’ll tell on you to Lilia.”

 

“Lies, you don’t have Lilia’s number.”

 

“I always have my ways Katsuki, keep that in mind.”

 

In what Phichit declared as innate fear to his threat, Yuuri let his friend go to his practice and settled into his bed for hopefully a full night’s sleep.

 

Thankfully for him.

 

It was.

 

* * *

 

 _“Try it,” Viktor hissed, “and I’ll break_ **_yours_ ** _myself.”_

 

A flash.

 

 _Ivan in his shock could only stare in fear before the anger that radiates from the Living Legend, the man hovered above the danseur shaking in restraint fury. Pride being the only think Ivan had left, he snarled back in a spur of spite, “Viktor Nikiforov! Oh how Russia’s hero would go as far to defend a piece of scum, how are you going to stop me huh? I’ve struck that bitch down more times than you can imagine,_ **_who_ ** _is going to stop me from one more!”_

 

Yuuri’s body on the floor, limp, pale. His eyes when he woke, lifeless, purposeless. Yuuri’s cries, his wounds, his self inflicted punishment.

 

_Red seemed to mar all the vision of the room’s occupants, but one especially and the next fistful came down with a loud crack against bone. One. Two. Three. Security came and pried him away from the limp and boneless former premier danseur before Viktor could throw the fourth. He fought, he hissed, he growled at the offending creature calling itself a man._

 

Viktor startled awake late into the night, chest heaving, sweat trickling down his forehead to his chin. The images of Yuuri in that room has replayed in his mind for two sleeps and with what Ivan said earlier today made it worse, he knows Yuuri is safe and healing, and he shouldn’t be too worried in the first place.

 

_Because it isn’t my place to worry?_

 

_No, don’t be silly. We’re friends now! Friends are allowed to be worried right?_

 

“Wait, are we considered friends?”

 

“Boof.”

 

Viktor jumped in his spot and swiveled his head to the right at the soft bark to find Makkachin look back at him sleepily, forgetting the pup was sleeping with him today, “Oh I’m sorry girl, I was just thinking.”

 

Another soft boof.

 

“This late? Yeah sorry, it’s dreams sweetie.”

 

“Boof.”

 

“It’s fine, let’s just sleep for now. Work tomorrow, pick up Yuri, then off to visit the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

 

“Arf. Boof.”

 

“I’m not-,” _gasp_ , “are you saying I’m lying?”

 

A huff.

 

“Daddy’s girl is so harsh, you’re getting punished now! Death hug!”

 

Viktor grabbed Makkachin and snuggled into her soft fur, the poodle whined and struggled as she tried to wiggle into a more comfortable position before dumping her weight on Viktor. He felt his lungs disappear for a second but soon the warmth of the poodle slowly lulled him to a content state of sleepiness. For today he’ll leave the heavy thinking to his future self, hoping for a better sleep.

 

Fortunately this time, he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd that’s this section done! Well done everybody, you survived <3 <3 <3 
> 
> ยาย ( yaai ) means grandma


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they walked to that afternoon’s training room he spotted Sophie at the end of the corridor and raised a hand to wave at her, “Sophie!” 
> 
> She turned around when she heard his call, cursed, and bolted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the supports my lovelies! Remember I accept drabble requests in exchange for Ko-Fi now, so come along~ 
> 
> And also consider this a thank you chapter to barechu who drew my new icon (๑•∀•๑), much lovesies (๑・ω-)～♥

It felt great, Yuuri thought. 

 

The day he finally returned to teaching he was surrounded by hugs left, right, front, and back from his students with excited chatter that drowns out all the other congratulatory welcome back by the adults. Yuri was right there in the middle of the hug fest and Viktor was at the sidelines with the rest of the parents who came, though as great as everything is, he doesn’t understand what’s going on. 

 

“I- thank for coming in so early, I’m sorry I’ve been-” 

 

A woman in her early thirties with eyes regarding him warmly and waved his concern away, Yuuri remember her as little Sergei’s mother, “Don’t worry about it Mr. Katsuki, nothing to be sorry about,” Her soft features darkened a bit when she spoke to him softly, “my cousin works at the Bolshoi and I heard what happened in general, I hope you feel better soon.” 

 

Yuuri took a deep breath, it wasn’t what he expected. He’d never thought about who might have known about what happened and normally he would have retreated to himself and avoid any further conversation about it but the kind and not pitying way she regards him make him think it might not be so bad. He credited it to the fact he was slightly high from all the small bundle of happiness surrounding him. “Thank you,” he said finally and Sergei’s mother, who introduced herself as Irina, smiled at him and gave his arm a solid pat. 

 

“ Yuu~ri!” The danseur turned around at the chorus of calls to find all his students standing in a small group with a small cake that says ‘ _ Welcome Back Yuuri! _ ’ and he felt his jaws dropped in awe. He looked around at the pleased faces of his students, who were beginning to fidget at his stand still, Yuuri dropped to his knees and opened his arm for a free kiss on the cheeks. If these children like him, he supposes he’s not that much a failure as a person. 

 

Feeling a gaze settle on his back, Yuuri lifted his head among the circle of children shoving cake in his face to find Viktor watching him, the Russian’s face was calm and serene like he was glad. When Viktor noticed Yuuri’s gaze back at him he smiled and threw a stray wink at him with ease, he had a feeling Viktor had a hand in planning today so in turn, he smiled. It was unfortunate that Viktor chokes the next second to react. 

 

* * *

 

It was the same day Yuuri returned to the Bolshoi, nerves on high and ready to bolt at the thought of facing his colleagues again, but Lilia stood strong at his side, her sometimes oppresing presence is a warm blanket of assurance today. More people waved hello to him in the corridors of the theatre followed by greetings of welcome back and good wishes, things Yuuri really doesn’t know how to react to. Lilia’s words helped him at these moments, “Stand strong Yuuri, remember you paved your way here yourself.” 

 

So he did. 

 

When they walked to that afternoon’s training room he spotted Sophie at the end of the corridor and raised a hand to wave at her, “Sophie!” 

 

She turned around when she heard his call, cursed, and bolted. 

 

“I- what?” 

 

_ Did he do something wrong? _

 

“I suppose I leave you here, I’ll be meeting with the managers today, if you finish earlier go on home and rest,” With those words Lilia gave him a quick pat on the back and went on her way, leaving Yuuri confused mid-corridor. It wasn’t a minute later when Sophie popped back into view, saw him, cursed again and bolted, again. 

 

Pyotr was the next person Yuuri saw as he walked towards the training room, blocking the last few steps to the door as he placed himself right in front of him, “Yuuri! I’m so glad you’re back, we’ve been waiting for you!” 

 

“We?” 

 

“Uh, Sophie and I of course! We haven’t seen you since you were discharged, how are things?” 

 

“It’s been great, Pyotya, thank you,” Yuuri tried to step sideways when his friend moved to stop him, “I- uh saw Sophie just now and she kept running away, did something happen?” 

 

“Oh nothing, nothing, she’s just being weird.” 

 

“And so are you.” 

 

“...” 

 

“...” 

 

Yuuri hid the wobble on his lips as Pyotr sighed and proceeded to drop all pretense, “I  _ told _ them I can’t do this and I  _ told _ them you don’t like these things, but Sophie and the others stubborn.” 

 

“And… “ 

 

“They’ve prepared a surprise welcome back party for you but the decorations suck because they let Alec do it and Pasha is trying to fix it with glitter.” 

 

“I- is it working?” 

Pyotr gave him a look and Yuuri burst into laughter, “I guess not.” 

 

The Russian followed into a chuckle and offered an arm to Yuuri and they opened the door together, Pyotr wasn’t kidding when he said the decorations were bad, there are colored paper strewn everywhere with plastic wrappings and leftover paper cuts. At one side the, it seemed glitter fix idea was a huge no go and Yuuri doesn’t know where to start apologising to when the janitors come in. The two other danseurs, Alec and Pasha, are quarrelling in the middle of the room trying to stick on a string of “Welcome Back” decorations that is half glittered and half splattered  in… paint? With several ribbons and balloons by the sides of it. 

 

Several others were preparing a small white table with what Yuuri would guess as some food and drinks humming to themselves and nagging at the two decorators

 

“It’s not that bad Pyotya, you exaggerate too much.” 

 

Everyone in the room stood still, unmoving, until Sophie turned around and pointed a straw at them, “I told you to distract him!” 

 

“I did, he wasn’t keen on it though.” 

 

“Don’t you push that on me.” Yuuri smacked a hand to his companion’s chest making them both laugh as the rest of the room scrambled from their positions to him with loud happy exclamations. Even though Sophie and Pyotr were the closest friend he has at the theatre doesn’t mean he was on bad terms with the rest, it’s just that they weren’t as close, but seeing them here today made Yuuri feel a bit better from whatever happened. Some had came over and given him a tight hug and and some a staggering pat to his back, although all came to pull him further into the room. 

 

Alec and Pasha were already at the food and beverage table and the former was whining at the incoming group, “Galina made you her mother’s honey cake recipe and it smells amazing Yuuri, but she won’t let us touch it until you do!” 

 

Yuuri finally sees the spread of food on the table, a modest amount of pirozhki and other popular pastries, some fried dumpling which Sophie beamed at proudly, and a huge 8 layered honey cake in the centre. The amount of calories and sugar on that table is enough to make any dancer cry and crave, either for the food or death after. 

 

“Because it  _ is _ for Yuuri, not you!” 

 

Eliza laughed on Yuuri’s left, “I thought you were on a  _ diet _ Alec, breaking vows so soon?” 

 

“Celebrations never count Lishka, you know that.” 

 

Yuuri watched with laughter in his eyes before Galina and Sophie nudged him forward, “Get digging then Yuuri,” the former said, “before Alec dies of impatience.” 

 

“Screw you.” 

 

“You wish Alec, you wish.” 

 

It wasn’t a surprise they cancelled practice that day, being totally incapacitated for the next three hour, but Lilia promised to double it the next day while some of them looked blue after eating too much sweet cake. Still, they were lucky Pasha didn’t offer to bring any alcohol. No one was also interested in explaining why there are glitter all over the floor and a stain of white and pink paint over the  _ barre _ . Lilia had dragged Yuuri away when the questioning started. 

 

* * *

 

Friday is his next day off and Yuuri was finally able to make a proper breakfast spread for Lilia after a hectic week back to work and practice, but today he stands proud looking down proudly at his creation. Lilia found it amusing when she found him beaming at a plate of  _ blini _ , “Well, my recipe hasn’t been this good in a while,” Yuuri positively shined at the praise. 

 

Both of them sat relaxingly at the dining table after clearing the breakfast, enjoying the morning with a cup of hot tea and the TV playing as background noise. Lilia was sipping on her tea when her phone pinged, her eyes flicked through the message before landing on him, “You’ll have a guest in the afternoon.” 

 

“A guest for me? Who?” 

 

“Viktor and Yuri.” 

 

Being surprised is an understatement, it was thanks to his early years of Kendo that he had fast reflexes when his own cup titled and almost spilled hot tea onto his laps, he is not keen on scalding his skin. There was a hidden smile behind the ex-prima’s calm facade as Yuuri sputtered in front of her, trying to string a sentence and logic together. 

 

“Yuratchka said he made something at school for you yesterday and when that boy pleads he receives, especially with that father of his. They’re coming here after school.” 

 

“Oh,” Yuuri seemed surprised, “They shouldn’t have bothered, we have a class tomorrow.” 

 

“Unless some accident happens again.” The danseur’s blush was the reason why he’s fun to tease, “Either way they’ll be here later so stretch or read or take a nap, do what you need to do.” 

 

“Yes madame.” 

 

When 13:30 rolled in, a familiar car pulled up on the driveway and honked once. Yuuri had just finished brushing the spoilt maine coon in the living room and jumped to his feet in a rush of excitement, to his own surprise. Excited voices filtered through the heavy wooden door as both side approached, Viktor’s voice velvety and warm while Yuri’s was sharp and colorful. There was a tiny knock on the door followed by the danseur’s name and taking that as the cue he opened the door to meet them with a smile but then he saw the ceiling instead. 

 

Neither Kendo or ballet seemed to help him in avoiding a big brown poodle launching itself at him for the third, fourth time now. Father and son stood shocked at the entrance, gasping in surprise. 

 

“Makkachin! Not again!” 

 

Yuuri laughed underneath the assault of wet kissed and soft fur, “We need to find you a better way or saying hello to me Makkachin.” The poodle simply licked him again and  _ boofed _ . 

 

“Yuuri oh my god I’m so sorry, it’s happened again, bad Makka!” Viktor offered a helping hand which Yuuri accepted and is instantly back to his feet. 

 

“Yuuri, are you okay? Did you hurt?” The danseur smiled at Yuri and opened his arm in welcome, “I’m perfectly fine Yura! How are you today, how was school? Did Makkachin go with you?” 

 

“Yuuri you’re so silly, Makkachin don’t go to people school, he goes to doggy school!” 

 

“Oh I see! Sorry Makkachin.” 

 

The poodle lifted her head at her name and wagged her tail in soft thumps, accepting the apologetic pat on the head, “It’s okay,” Yuri added, “Makka won’t mind.” 

 

“I’m really sorry Yuuri, I’ll try and get her to stop doing that.” Despite the laughters, Viktor was still evidently distressed at the fall so Yuuri smiled and waved it off, “Don’t worry too much about it, come on in!” It was a weird feeling to invite people into someone else’s home, but he’s been there for about two years now so maybe it’s kinda okay. 

 

“Ah, actually we’re wondering if you want to come out with us instead, Yuratchka has something for you, right zvezdochka?” 

 

“Out?” 

 

Yuri had wriggled his hands up at the danseur and he has instinctively picked him up, “I- I’m free today so I suppose it’s no problem, let me go tell Lilia first?” The former skater beamed brightly at his answer and practically shaking with excitement, “Okay!” Yuuri was unsurprisingly reminded of Makkachin’s own excitement, if Viktor had a tail… 

 

Yuuri went into the house to Lilia’s study with the boy still on his hips (at Yuri’s own insistance) telling him about what happened at school. A pigeon flew into the window, a stray cat on the fence, how Peter from Strawberry class spilt his milk, 

 

(“Wait, what class are you Yura?”   “I’m in Peach!” )

 

And how his papa picked him up  _ very _ on time, “Papa wasn’t even five minutes late!” 

 

“Is he usually late?” 

 

“Only when it’s busy with granda Yakov.” 

 

The door to Lilia’s office swung open and she stood by the frame with an amused face, “Lilia!” Yuuri let the boy wiggle down from him as he latch onto the ex-prima’s legs instead, “Yuuri said he’s coming to with us to play!” 

 

“Did he now?” 

 

“Umhm!” 

 

“Uh-” 

 

“Well get going then, don’t let me stop you,” Yuuri found Lilia watching him with a smile, nudging him with her smiling eyes. “Right, uh, um, thank you? I’ll be back before dinnner.” 

 

Lilia waved his concerns away, “I have a dinner appointment with a friend, just go.” 

 

So both Yu(u)ris returned to the entrance where Viktor and Makkachin are waiting patiently, human and dogs seemingly light up at the same time and Viktor would thump his tail if he had one. Yuuri nodded at the unspoken question and the man cheered, “Let’s go then! Kirov park sounds good to you?” 

 

* * *

 

“It seems like this could be a new routine for us.” 

 

Yuuri looked up from Yuri’s paper art, a collection of animal print paper and stick drawing of a person doing ballet - which he was told that it was him - and a rather adorable drawing of a cat at the corner of the piece. Viktor sat beside Yuuri with a cup of latte, his smiles hasn’t faded since they got into his car and drove into the afternoon lit park. “What kind of routine?” 

 

His return question seemed to surprise Viktor himself, “I don’t- I mean, maybe only if  _ if _ you want it too uh-” He cut himself off when Yuuri burst into a light laughter, Yuri who was beside the danseur looked up in curiosity then shrugged and ignored them in favor of throwing a stick for the poodle to chase. 

 

“Yuuuri,” Viktor was snapped out of his nervous rant when Yuuri’s laughter started, “don’t laught at me, I was being serious!” 

 

“Yes, but we do have a routine Viktor.” 

 

That took his attention. “We do?” 

 

“Well, you have your daily routines and so do I and during the weekend you bring Yura for class! That’s a routine.” Viktor groaned. 

 

“It’s… not?” 

 

“It’s more of a schedule Yuuri, not a- a routine,” the Russian looked rather conflicted with himself, Yuuri can see the cogs and wheels working overtime in Viktor’s head and he had to stop himself from laughing, “Ok, I mean- I should’ve, no what can I even, yeah ok.” 

 

“I’m uh, I’m sure this would come out as weird and all that, you being Yura’s teacher and all that but... “ Yuuri let his face be open, letting Viktor go at his own pace while hiding the fact that his heart began racing for unknown reasons, “I really enjoy the times that I spent with you, even the small moments where I drop Yura off at class and I’d like to spend more time with you because I am… interested in you Yuuri.” 

 

A silence stretched after the last words and syllables were spoken, Viktor twitching anxiously from his seat and Yuuri staring at him with an unreadable expression. The living legend was about to stutter out more explanation when Yuuri asked a curious question, “Why?” 

 

“Why what?” 

 

“Why would you want to spend time with me?” Viktor blinks at him.

 

“There simply isn’t a reason why I  _ wouldn’t _ , Yuuri.” 

 

The danseur seemed ready to bolt but stayed where he is, “I- You’ve, You’ve seen me…” he said motioning to himself, “I’m not- not gonna be right or enough for anyone.” 

 

“What, because you’re human?” The platinum haired man reached for Yuuri’s hand, “Yuuri, just because of who you are, just because of your anxiety doesn’t mean you are in any way…  _ wrong _ . Yes you may have your wrongs, but so do I and it doesn’t make you any less kinder, less talented, less amazing than anyone else!” 

 

“Yuuri, you may not have noticed it but your arrival into our lives, both Yura and I are… happier. Yura talks to me more than before, about you, about himself, about everything else. There isn’t a moment where seeing you doesn’t make me happy.” 

 

The sweet sweet Japanese man still hesitated, his eyes looking down and away, this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. “Viktor, you’ve seen me bad and broken, it’s- it’s not anything good for-” 

 

“ _ Yuuri _ , please… I don’t care about that,” his hands migrate from the danseur’s hand to his cheeks, “I’m not perfect Yuuri, I’m irresponsibe and childish - according to Yakov - I am always forgetful and sometimes I can’t read the situation and get myself in trouble and… all those past years of alone didn’t do me well too, does that make you think less of me? Am I not enough?” 

 

A spark of defensiveness flared in Yuuri’s eyes, “Of course not! How can you say that!” Viktor simply gave the man a silent look, it took a few second for Yuuri to understand and that’s when a light blush bloom on his cheeks. 

 

“Yuuri, let me know more about you, no, let me know everything about you,” Viktor’s thumb carressed the man’s cheeks softly, looking straight into warm whisky, “Let’s get to know each other more, slow or fast, but always at your pace. Okay?” 

 

Yuuri didn’t say a word. But he nodded. 

 

The small gesture had the Russian man jump in his seat and wrapped the younger man in his famous octopus hug, cooing softly into the curve of Yuuri’s ear. The danseur was stiff at first but melted into the embrace with each second that passed, he was only about to let a breath of relief when something tugged at his sleeve. 

 

“Papa, Yuuri, I’m hungry.” 

 

They were so preccupied, they didn’t realize Yuri had wandered off and went running around with Makkachin until he’s back by their side with tousled hair and what seemed to be an empty stomach. “Oh no, that’s not good at all! Why don’t we pay good old Tiebor a visit, what do you say my baby boy?” 

 

Yuri struggled half heartedly when his father picked him up and threw him into the air, “Papa, I’m not a baby!” Yuuri laughed at the boy’s disgruntled face, “But you still want pirozhki?” Viktor asked. 

 

“Duh.” 

 

And so they did. All three with a smile, Yuri an innocent one, Viktor a pleased one, and Yuuri a shy but happy one. Yuuri realises after a while that he never got to know what happened that day with Viktor at the Bolshoi but now for the moment he couldn’t really care less. 

 

* * *

 

Yuuri laid back on his bed that night, calm and sated after a nice soak in the bath with Edgar once again purring on his chest, thinking. He wasn’t by far  _ healed _ , he wasn’t by far turned to normal all of the sudden, what happened will happen again although he will make sure he’d find a better way to deal with it, but for the moment… he was happy. He fell asleep with a rare smile on his lips as his phone pinged with a message. Messages actually. 

 

**Viktor Nikiforov**

          Yuuri! I forgot to say goodnight, so… Goodnight! <3

          Yuuri? 

          Asleep? 

          Alrighty then ;)

 

**Phichit Chulanont**

         Yuuri! You won’t guess what Ciao Ciao told me and where I’m going in two weeks!

         (⁎⁍̴̛͂▿⁍̴̛͂⁎)*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡ོ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ohohohohohohohoo, here comes another storm! 
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, consider sharing it to your friends! Share button at the top <3


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside knowledge: Ciao Ciao has scarily disapproving eyebrows when mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your comments and kudos are making me blush so badly ⁄(⁄ ⁄ˊૢ⁄ ⌑ ⁄ˋૢ⁄ ⁄)⁄
> 
> I'm so glad my words have been enjoyable and emotion inducing in you guys, I hope you keep supporting this story with your love!

“A what?”

 

“A training camp, it’s been approved by the RSF so we’ll be hosting the skaters in two weeks time and you’ll be there - I won’t take no for an answer.” 

 

Viktor sat on his desk in Yakov’s office mouth agape, it wasn’t an announcement he expected this early in the morning, “I’ve no idea where you got the idea I  _ wouldn’t _ be there Yakov! It’s gonna be fun!” 

 

“Well you’re not gonna be there for fun you manchild! You’ll be training them too so better get ready for that, everyone is looking forward to learn from the Russian Living Legend.” Viktor half scoffed at his mentor, “We can have fun as we learn! It’ll be so great to see everyone again, do we know who’s coming yet?” 

 

“The final list will be in two days, but Josef’s boy is confirmed with some grand prix participants too.” 

 

“Hmm.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Can Yuri come?” 

 

Yakov paused from his morning paper, “Lilia’s boy?” 

 

“Well, yes him too, but I was referring to Yuratchka.” The look shot at him almost made him feel stupid for asking. 

 

“Of course he bloody could, just make sure he behaves. I already have you making troubles I don’t need another one.” Viktor laughed and chucked a crumpled paper at Yakov’s table and the older man grumbled something akin to  _ see what I have to deal with everyday _ . “Oooh, I hope Yuuri would come, it’ll be fun to spend time with him and the others.” 

 

“That boy is a figure skating fan, of course he would,” finally finishing the papers, Yakov took a sip of his coffee and looked up, “What’s with that stupid face for?” 

 

“I didn’t know Yuuri is a skating fan! Do you think he’d want autographs? Wait- would he want  _ my _ autograph?” 

 

Yakov is glad Viktor’s no longer a competitive skater, since now he could throw anything at his student’s stupid head. 

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure?” Yuuri’s glasses were askew on the bridge of his nose, the lingering sleep dragging on his eyelids but his mind were going off very loudly in excitement. 

 

“Of course I am! Ciao Ciao didn’t even have to wait for an answer cause I signed up immediately, Yuuri I’m coming to St. Petersburg!” Yuuri smiled at Phichit’s enthusiasm, feeling the hype effect even all the way in his room barely 5 in the morning, “I’m so glad P, I really missed you.” 

 

“Awwww my sweet summer child, not to worry! Neither wind nor storm will stop me from coming to you! I need all the juicy updates on everything that’s happened and you better introduce me to your semi-not-son Yurio and his legend of a father.” The Thai skater’s coo over the phone made Yuuri roll his eyes, “He’s not my son Phichit and you’ll see Viktor at the rink anyway!” 

 

“It’s not the same kind of introduction tho!” 

 

The next five minutes was spent listening to Phichit list all the things he wanted to do while in town and that made Yuuri laugh, “The way you’re talking it’s like you’re here for vacation and not training.” 

 

His friend tsk-ed him on international call, “You know these things can be both, it’s the only thing resembling a vacation for the rest of this off season, you’ll have to come with me everywhere!” Yuuri found it a fair point and conceded, “But only if you focus on training first, I don’t want Ciao Ciao to think I’m distracting you.” 

 

“Bah, he’ll probably want you time too. There’s been no one else suitable to take your place as unofficial ballet consultant at the rink you know, man’s gonna be thirsty for advice.” 

 

“But I did nothing to help!” 

 

“You improved half his skater’s form and step sequence, including me, sell yourself short again Katsuki and I’m ratting on you to Ciao Ciao.” 

 

“Why would that scare me?” 

 

“His disapproving eyebrows.” 

 

A pregnant pause. 

 

“Actually yeah, okay, I get you.” 

 

“Good, now I’m gonna finish this beer and hit the hay. See you in two weeks Yuuri!” The call disconnected on a literal high note and Yuuri grudgingly dragged his heavy feet to the en suite to prepare for the day, he thinks that Yuri would absolutely enjoy Phichit’s company and wonder if they would allow him in those training sessions to catch up with old friends. 

 

_ But first, going through today on step at a time _ . 

 

* * *

 

True to his words, Yakov has the complete list on his table after two days time and Viktor took in the names with greedy eyes. He could feel himself shake in giddiness, it may have only been a season of retirement and he has kept in contact with a few of his former fellow competitors but he was more than excited to see the others again. Viktor had to be honest, he’s only considered good friends with Chris and all others were… good acquaintances at most despite his best effort to  _ be _ friends. He had a time when 80% of his feelings were numbed, he may have had the dream position at the top of the world and his name will forever be etched in figure skating history but that’s when he felt less and less living and more just…  _ being _ . 

 

_ Until Yuri _ . 

 

Thinking about his past makes him feel very pathetic, undeserving, and many more emotions that is unfitting of his  _ title _ . But Yuri… Yuri brought a spark back into his life that he never knew was missing, he has a loving family with equally successful parents and siblings but there was never a connection so deep and strong he’s felt with his adopted son. His son. 

 

Thinking about the ball of energy, Viktor snapped out of the road his mind was tumbling into and found himself grinning,  _ oh how would Yura react if he hears this news _ . “Yakov, can I tell Yura yet? And Yuuri? Oh please please please.” 

 

He receives a grunt in reply, “Do as you wish.” It was Viktor’s favorite reply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It’s very short, sorry! But next arc coming soon with more funsies and shenanigans!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The (good) storm arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the late update guys! In case you missed it, I had to word vomit out a new fic recently called [ Shape My Heart From Dough ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11160150) (a Victuuri x Great British Bake Off AU) and I might consider making it multichapter if there’s enough interest ☆～（ゝ。∂）
> 
> It was a mistake driven by watching too many bake off videos plus a friend’s bday ehehe, but here’s the next chapter so enjoy! 
> 
> Unbeta’d <3

Yuuri wants to curse Phichit but doesn’t have the heart nor energy to do so at five in the morning, he covers his yawn with his cooling cup of diluted black water someone dared to call coffee and shifted his weight to his other foot, waiting for the announcement board to change signs. Phichit had excitedly texted Yuuri his flight details the moments his attendance was confirmed for the two week long skating master class at Viktor’s homerink, but as excited as he is Yuuri could not understand why the bloody hell his best friend would do this to him. Making him wait piss early in the morning at the airport with a sad excuse for a coffee. Yuuri mulled about his predicament for a minute longer when the PA announced the flight’s arrival and the danseur sighed in relief and began bouncing on his feet. 

 

Yuuri often went to the competition Phichit’s in - often acting in as choreography instructor when Annie, Phichit’s usual choreographer, had to accompany her other skaters when he was still in Detroit - and along with rooming with the Thai national treasure they spent most of their times together until Yuuri had to move to St. Petersburg. It was a devastating moment for them both, but they parted with well wishes for each other and Yuuri promised to be at most, if not all, of his best friend’s competition. Phichit was (exaggeratedly) heartbroken when he couldn’t attend the World’s early in the year because he had a performance tour so this will be a reunion he’s been looking forward too. 

 

The arrival door opened and closed automatically for the last ten minutes, ragged and tired looking passenger filtered through and finally embracing freedom from the stale plane air, but still no sign of Phichit and his coach… 

 

“Yuuri!!!!” 

 

Yuuri barely saved his coffee from the loud exclamation making him jump, the danseur looked up and his eyes met the very person he’s been waiting for, he threw the offending beverage away and ran to meet the Thai skater, “Phichit!” 

 

The younger man jumped and threw himself at Yuuri, laughing and clinging onto the Japanese man like an overgrown koala, “Yuuuri~ I’m so glad you’re here! Let me look at you, oh my precious son how I’ve missed you!” 

 

“I’m older than you.” 

 

“Po-tay-to po-ta-toh,” Celestino was chuckling into his fist at the background and Yuuri gave the coach a small smile and wave of welcome which the man kindly returned, “Yuu~ri, pay attention to me! How are you now? Give me an update, stat. I still can’t believe you didn’t let me come after all that’s happened.” 

 

The danseur laughed at his friend’s pout and gave him a tight hug in return, “I would, but you two must be tired, let me just get you to the hotel first then we can talk, yes?” 

 

Phichit grumbled but agreed, yawning as the exhaustion from international travel returned to him. The danseur suddenly felt something prickle at the back of his neck and turned around to scan the busy traffic of people behind them, but found nothing in particular. It was unfortunate he missed the tuff of silver platinum hair passing them by. 

 

Yuuri walked them both to the taxi stand and helped loaded in the baggage before passing the address of the hotel to the driver, the classic radio channel that played in the tobacco smelling car lulled the two newcomers to sleep in less than a minute they were on the road. 

 

“Tired tourists are they?” 

 

The driver’s soft voice snapped Yuuri’s drifting consciousness back to reality, “Ah yes and no, they’re figure skaters actually,” Yuuri added in pride, “Well, the younger one is, the other is his coach. They’re here for a training camp.”  

 

“Ah...my grandson likes figure skating. He watches them on TV all the time, very talented all of them.” 

 

“That’s lovely, is he skating too?” 

 

“Beginner’s classes,” the smile on the older man was blinding in the still dark road of the city, he fumbled with the overhead compartment and pulled out a piece of paper,  _ a photo _ , Yuuri realises, “This is him.” 

 

Yuuri took the photo carefully, mindful of its importance to the driver. The photo was well worn but obviously much care went into maintaining the picture. The young boy that hugged the leg pants of the old man was smiling softly, snow falling around them at what seems to be an open public rink, dotting their black hairs with white dots. “He looks really happy.” 

 

“That boy just met his skating hero a few minutes before this photo was taken, his idol offered to take it for us,” the man recalled with a fond smile, “Beka wouldn’t stop nagging me about how great Misha was for the next three days.” 

 

“Misha? Misha Ge?” 

 

“You know him too?” 

 

“I’m also a figure skating fan.” 

 

“Small world, although that makes sense,” Yuuri shared a laugh with their driver, peeking at the two sleeping man at the back seats, “You’d get along with Beka no problem.” 

 

An idea lit up in Yuuri’s head and he beamed at it, “Would you like to give your grandson a present?” 

 

* * *

 

The taxi pulled up to the hotel and the passengers took a sluggishly long time to get out the vehicle, one of them didn’t even  _ try _ . “Phichit, stand straight for one minute or I  _ will _ let you fall.”  Yuuri’s warning fell on deaf ears as he balanced a loose limbed Thai in his arms while Celestino grabbed their luggage, he turned back to their driver with an apologetic smile, “I’ll send you what I promised when I get them, hope Beka wouldn’t mind the wait.” 

 

“You’re getting him autographs of famous skaters, he’d wait a century if that’s what it takes,” the old man laughed, “Thank you, you really didn’t have to.” 

 

“It’s my pleasure,” Yuuri chuckled at the image of Yuri’s reaction when Viktor told them the news and that they were allowed to visit when they want, “I know another boy that loves figure skating too and if it’s something I can help them be closer to their inspirations, I’d be happy to help.” 

 

Yuuri waved away the man’s thank you as when he tipped him, ready to lug his best friend into the hotel lobby when the older man called out, “What’s your name young man?” 

 

“It’s Katsuki Yuuri, but call me Yuuri.” 

 

“Yuuri…” the man nodded, “Good name Yuuri. I am Deidre Altin, it was nice meeting you boy.” 

 

“And I, you.” Yuuri waved goodbye as the taxi pulled out the dropping zone and back into the city traffic, stumbling on his feets when Phichit’s turned full dead weight making the danseur curse silently. Celestino had the foresight to check them in immediately and got the key cards to their rooms in no time, “Let’s get a few hours sleep before we start the day properly, you too Yuuri.” Yuuri assured the coach that he had no intention to do otherwise. 

 

Celestino had already sent their bags ahead and went to his own room after helping Yuuri with Phichit to his room. The danseur took his friend’s shoes off and placed them neatly to the side and unceremoniously slumped onto the pristine bed like Phichit did moments ago. Fortunately he had half a mind to pull a comforter on them before falling into a quick sleep. 

  

* * *

 

“How much would you pay to see Victor’s face here instead?” Was the first thing he heard when Yuuri blinked into daylight streaming from the semi covered windows. Yuuri groaned and smacked his hand at his friend’s face as he stuffed his face back into the pillow, earning him a disgruntled  _ Hey! _

 

“I mean seriously, this is such a suggestive position we’d totally be shagging if you’re not like my own brother,” Phichit’s waggling eyebrows made an appearance as Yuuri took in their position, they were still on the bed and the Thai skater had propped his head on his hand looking down at him, Phichit’s shirt also seemed to disappear through the course of the night.  _ Huh _ . 

 

“Oh god Phichit, really? This early in the morning?” 

 

“It’s kinda lunch time actually. Yuuri, I’m hungry.” 

 

The thought of food woke Yuuri’s body in a snap of a finger and he dragged himself to the en suite to freshen up with the provided toiletries, Phichit joined him a minute later with a neon green toothbrush he brought, “What?” he asked when Yuuri stopped to stare at the eye blinding toiletries. The danseur laughed and proceeded to wash his face, “Just nostalgia.” 

 

Celestino knocked on their door just as Phichit finished a shower and changed and they made their way to the lobby after Celestino having requested to try some warm Russian breakfast outside the hotel. Phichit brightened and pronounced Yuuri as their official tour guide and shoved him forward to lead them to, “The best and most authentic Russian breakfast!” 

 

Yuuri had to duck for cover when he pointed at a McDonald’s sign. 

 

They finally settled on a small dinner two blocks away from the hotel after the strong smell of coffee and mouthwatering pancake aroma led them to the corner establishment, decorated with window sill flowers and beautiful wall calligraphies. A waiter came by to serve their coffees and they sipped the beverage with reverence. Celestino cleared his throat which took the attention of both young men with him, “It’s really good to see you again Yuuri, I hope Russia is treating you well enough.” 

 

Yuuri smiled at the familiar warmth Celestino always had around him, a father figure even for him who wasn’t the coach’s student, “Russia’s treating me just fine, if Phichit complained to you about anything it’s probably an exaggeration.” Said friend was strongly against such accusation. 

 

“I should’ve known,” the coach chuckled as his student began flicking sugar at the Japanese danseur in childish revenge, “I heard it wasn’t an exaggeration recently though.” 

 

Childish actions stopped at the drop of temperature around them, Yuuri’s eyes shot wide to meet Celestino’s sharp brown eyes looking into him, “You may not be one of my students Yuuri, but I respect and care of you as one. You’ve been one ever since you stepped in with Phichit into our rink and skated on our ice, and I will not let it stand if someone hurts you.” 

 

Celestino let his gaze soften when he saw how tense Yuuri is becoming, “I just want you to know that we’re here for you, so don’t hesitate sending a name our way and we’ll deal with it,” the danseur laughed brightly then the man corrected himself, “Well actually, Phichit will deal with it.” 

 

Any worry the older man have for Yuuri was worth it if he could see the young man’s eyes smile brightly with his words, “Thank you Ciao Ciao.” 

 

The kind moment was shattered when Phichit’s whining took over, “Ciao Ciao that’s unfair,  _ I’m _ supposed to be the one who says that!” Yuuri laughed and pointed a finger at his friend, “No,  _ you _ just focus on your training and get me a gold Chulanont.” 

 

Their small squabble is disbanded when the waiter came back with their food, the  _ blini _ is warm, steaming, and smells absolutely  _ divine _ , and she left them to dig in with fervor. Bright silver flashed in her eyes as a figure passed the diner’s window on the opposite road, she blinked at the familiarity but shrugged it away at the briefness and went back to her service. 

 

“So Yuuri,” Phichit started after his second bite of food, “you’re going to come to the training camp right?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Viktor will be there too right?” 

 

“He’s one of your instructors, so obviously.” 

 

“What about Yurio?” 

 

“... Where is this going?” 

 

“I just want to know if I can finally plan your wedding and meet my nephew.” It was Yuuri’s turn to flick sugar. 

 

* * *

 

A few streets past the small diner, Christophe Giacometti took off his sunglasses to look at his Russian friend, “Viktor, what’s wrong?” 

 

The Russian had a serious thinking face on that the Swiss wondered if something was wrong when the man spoke, “I think my Yuuri senses are tingling again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have my Phichit! Remember to give my other  story  a go and leave me your comments as I’m considering making it a multichapter (๑ゝڡ◕๑)


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His senses, it tingles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it has come to my attention (cooked) oats are also called porridge, but porridge to me is like okayu made with rice and other stuff. So… uh, oats? 
> 
> Y’all were really enjoying Viktor’s Yuuri senses aye lol

Viktor was  _ really _ lucky to have Tanya as his neighbour, he thinks as he slugs to the Sheremetyevo Airport at lord knows hour to pick up his best friend and his coach. He breaths in the floral air freshener as he stepped through the sliding doors and made his way to the arrival area. Viktor was halfway there when out of the corner of his eyes a head of black hair caught his eyes vividly but when he turned around it wasn’t there anymore, disappearing into the crowd of passengers that arrived earlier.  _ Was that my Yuuri senses? _

 

After a while, he blinked in realization that he was standing in the middle of the way and hurriedly made his way to Chris’ arrival gate, sighing in relief when the flight is predicted to be on time so it wouldn’t be too long of a wait. Viktor tries hard to not be bored just standing there with no one to talk to and nothing to do so he made a game for himself, choose a random person and create a life story for them. But considering how sparse the people around him are it wasn’t working as well as he thought, he huffed in annoyance and pulled out his phone to check on his instagram instead. 

 

Chris had posted a selfie of Josef and himself in the plane when he boarded and Viktor tapped to like the picture. Another picture that caught Viktor’s eyes aside from the poodle accounts that he follows is of a Thai skater that Viktor has met… twice? Yakov would’ve hit him in the head if he was here and Viktor isn’t paying attention to his competitors again. It’s not as if he’s forgotten who Phichit Chulanont is, the Thai was as much as the life of the party as Christophe was in every event they’re in, alway a bright and chipper character in the often stiff official banquets. He also remembers Phichit is really good with his PCS but needs improvements with his jump edges and… oh, he’s asked for Viktor’s signature for a friend before. 

 

Well, anyway, Viktor knew he was coming to the training camp and it seemed he’s just arrived with Celestino Cialdini this morning as well! What a shame, Viktor could’ve welcomed them if he knew when they were arriving. Hopefully they would have more time to talk and hang around this time...and just maybe he could get to know more about Yuuri. Just maybe. 

 

Minutes passed and finally the plane arrived on time and Viktor spotted Christophe and Josef as one of the first few people that came out the arrival gate, he waved his arm up high to signal them, “Chris! Josef! It’s so great to see you again!” 

 

“My sentiments exactly  _ mon ami _ , I miss chasing your gold when you’re still on the ice.” Christophe and his coach made his way over to him with a bright smile and the Swiss’ octopus arms began their greetings as both men flung their arms at each other into a tight hug, “How are you old friend? Adjusting well to full time parenthood?” 

 

Viktor scoffed, “I’ll have you know that I was a  _ full time _ parent even while I was competing you know.” The Russian moved to his other guest and gave the older man a smile, “How are you Josef?” 

 

“Worse than you,  _ I _  have to take care of an overgrown child,” Coach Josef chuckled to himself as he welcomed the Figure Skating Champion into a hug. “With how often he’s indecent, I don’t think Chris should be put in the child category.” 

 

“You two are speaking nonsense,” Chris huffed and put a hand on his hips, “As much as I’d like to catch up  _ cherie _ , we should find somewhere else to do it.” 

 

“Right right, to the hotel we go then,” the three men hurriedly moved to the cocoon of Viktor’s still warm car and began the drive to their stay while Viktor suggested some activities excitedly, “You’d like the place Chris, it’s got some of the best cafes around we’re sure to find something good to eat for lunch and maybe we can head to the rink for a quick peek.” 

 

Chris groaned slightly, “Only after I’ve had a few extra hours sleep and you bring your little cutie with you.” Josef seconded that opinion with a tired nod. 

 

“As you wish!” 

 

* * *

 

Viktor dropped them off at the hotel and promised to be back by noon for lunch and he drove back home to bring Makkachin on a walk and get Yuri ready for the day if Tanya hasn’t. Although it was a saturday the rink is closed for preparation and some urgent maintenance for the intense usage in the near future so not even the ballet classes is on today - a huge downside for today if anything and Yuri was less than happy when he was told so he might put on an attitude today.  

 

His keys clinked against each other and there was a muffled bark behind the door as he put his keys in, he opened the door and Makkachin is waiting behind the door as expected, what he didn’t expect though is his son already awake and having breakfast at the sofa watching TV. Yuri looked up and waved his spoon in greeting, “Papa home! Tanya made oats!” 

 

“That’s very nice of her, did you say thank you.” 

 

Yuri scoffed way too Yakov-y than Viktor would like to admit, “Of course I did papa. You’re silly again.” 

 

Viktor made his way to the sofa and placed a loud kiss on his son’s tuff of hair, “I’d like you to know that papa is silly  _ every _ day.” 

 

“Wouldn’t we know, right Yuratchka?” Tanya laughed as she made her way from the kitchen to the living room, another bowl of warm honey oats in her hand and a hot cup of coffee, “For the hardworking papa.” 

 

Viktor breathed in the smell of warm food and his stomach growled impatiently, “Tanya, you god sent.” 

 

Tanya waved the praise away and gave Yuri a pat to the head before heading home, leaving the two Nikiforov men to sit and watch morning cartoon. “Yura finish your breakfast and we’ll go and bring Makka on a walk ok?” 

 

“Will Yuuri be there?” 

 

“Uh… no?” 

 

“Oh.” Yuri looked at his half eaten oats dejectedly and Viktor felt bad, “Hey now, you’ll see him during the week, he’ll be there to say hello to the other skaters!” 

 

“Hmm…” 

 

Viktor sighed and tried again, “How about today you come and hang out with papa and papa’s friend Chris?” That seemed to catch the boy’s attention, “Chris?” 

 

“Yeah, you watch his skating video last night remember?” Yuri’s eyes immediately sparkled and jumped from the sofa in excitement, “Skater with the pretty eyes! Yes yes yes, papa please? Can papa’s friend Chris teach me how to skate?” 

 

Viktor laughed as Yuri’s tugging on his shirt made their resident poodle think it was a game and she started barking and tugging on the man’s pant, “Easy easy, why don’t you come with papa and we can ask Chris together,  _ da _ ?” 

 

“ _ Da _ !” Yuri then shoved the remaining of his breakfast into his mouth and placed the bowl into the sink with the stool Viktor placed making him coo and pull out his phone to record and snap photos, “Yuri you’re so cute! Papa is so proud aaaaa~” 

 

Yuri frowned at him instead, “Papa, no time for joking, hurry breakfast and Makka walkies!” 

 

Viktor clutched at his heart in dramatic response, “Oh, my beating heart.” Makkachin approached her owner in concern, sniffing and licking his face, as Viktor’s monologue continued, “How can my child, my own son be so cruel to me?” Makkachin whined in sympathy, or resignation really, who knows. But as an obedient father, Viktor took his spoon and began to finish his own breakfast while Yuri adorably fumbled with his tiger backpack, ready for an adventure. Viktor gets a cold stare everytime he tries to take his phone and record when he was supposed to be eating, so again the obedient father continued his meal. 

 

The living legend, now not even having the pride to be the Living Legend, finished washing up their bowls and mugs and wiped his hands, ready to bring Makkachin on a walk as per order - oh how his life turns around - to find the poodle already collared and leashed with… the special occasion red bowtie collar? 

 

“Oh Yura, thank you for getting Makka ready! But why the bowtie?” 

 

Yuri looked attentively at the floor, mumbles coming from the mouth tucked into a haphazardly thrown on scarf, Viktor knelt down at beside the boy and the excited dog. “What did you say  _ zvezdochka _ ?” 

 

“Cause… cause Makka looks really cute today,” the matching red scarf to the poodle’s collar did nothing to hide the boy’s cheek flush as he tried to cover his face. It took 5 seconds to restart Viktor’s heart, it took less than a second for the man to cuddle the child up in his arms with the loudest coo a person can make. Viktor even stood and spun them around with laughter as Yuri yelled at his father, “Papa  _ let me down! _ “ 

 

“Oh  _ moya _ Yuratchka, you are papa’s most precious, most important star in my life. Papa loves you  _ soooooooooo _ much!” Yuri spluttered at Viktor’s declaration and began hitting his father’s shoulder. Needless to say Makkachin’s walk was delayed for a few more minutes as the poor girl sat satisfied watching her two humans be silly. 

 

* * *

 

Yuri was sad they had to leave Makkachin with Tanya when it was time to go for lunch but perked up when the poodle gave him a woof and a lick, “Give Makka treats ok Tanya?” 

 

“Of course Yuratchka, wouldn’t dare not to,” Tanya and Evgeni waved the father and son away and it wasn’t long until their drive took them to Chris and Josef’s hotel. Yuri stood by Viktor’s side all the time, holding on to his dress pants while trying to look nonchalant even though the boy was clearly nervous with all the people going around, Viktor found it  _ extremely _ endearing. 

 

What was  _ more _ endearing, however, was when the boy tugged on Viktor’s pant looking up at him with a specific question in his eyes. Viktor made a noise of inquiry and Yuri lifted one arm up towards him, the grown ass man barely held his excitement in as he lifted the boy into his arms as requested, humming happily to himself. “It won’t be long now Yura, I’m sure they’ll be down here soon.” 

 

“Ah!” 

 

Yuri’s sudden exclamation and wriggling surprised Viktor immensely, “A- Yura what’s wrong?” 

 

“Yuuri!” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I saw Yuuri, papa!” Viktor turned around to see where Yuri was pointing but he saw no sign of the familiarly beautiful and striking face anywhere, neither was there any sign of those soft black hair of the danseur, “I don’t see him Yura, maybe you made a mistake.” 

 

His son’s deflating mood was sad to witness so he tried to salvage what he can, rubbing the boy’s back comfortingly, “I’m sure you’ll see him soon Yura, why don’t you close your eyes and wish for it.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“You won’t know if you don’t try baby boy.” 

 

“Okay!” 

 

In the time it took for Yuri to finish his impromptu wishing session, Chris and Josef had arrived with a refreshed look and bright smiles calling for Viktor. 

 

“Thanks for waiting _mon cher_ and oh my, who is this handsome young man?” The sight of Christophe in front of him made Yuri into a shy kitten, interested but definitely not gonna reach out. “Christophe, Josef, let me introduce you to my precious, most beautiful, most cutest son in the world, Yuri Plisetsky!” Viktor’s words did nothing to help Yuri’s situation as he just groaned and hid his face into his father’s shoulder. Their two guest laughed and pitied the boy as Chris coaxed Yuri to relax with a gift, “Something for my best friend’s precious _chaton_ , come and have a look _ma_ _cheri_? 

 

Yuri lifted his head at the accented English and even more unfamiliar language, but Chris’ soft tone persuaded him to look back and the man passed him a gift bag with orange cats printed all over. Viktor put him back down to his feet and Yuri reached his hands in the bag to find something… soft? He looked back up at his father who only had a smile and waved his hand to let him continue, Yuri put down the bag and pulled out the softest and fluffiest cat plushie he’s ever seen in his life and his eyes  _ sparkled _ . “What do you say Yuri?” 

 

Gasping in excitement, Yuri smushed his face to Chris’ leg and smiled at him toothily, “Thank you Uncle Chris!” He shouted in what little English he knows. Chris looks like he’s ready to fall, and Josef was kind enough to put a steadying hand on the Swiss skater. “Oh  _ mon chaton _ , you are too precious,” a hand on his heart as Chris continued to swoon over the cuteness. 

 

“Now now Yura, let the man live,  _ da _ ?” 

 

“ _ Da _ ?” All three adults laughed at the boy’s confused reply and all took turn ruffling his hair. 

 

Josef passed a bar of chocolate to Yuri which he hugged together with his new cat plushie, which Viktor helped put in his tiger backpack but the boy insisted on holding onto the plushie. 

 

“Alright, now that everyone is here why don’t we head to lunch? There’s a place with amazing Stroganoff and stews near here.” There’s a murmur of agreement and Chris waved his hand forward, “Lead the way hot shot.” 

 

Half way there Viktor stopped short by the sidewalk, all senses perking up as his eyes scanned the area. Chris stopped a few steps after him, taking off his sunglasses and took a look around as well, “Viktor, what’s wrong?” 

 

The Russian had a serious thinking face on that the Swiss wondered if something  _ was _ wrong when the man spoke, “I think my Yuuri senses are tingling.” 

 

“What.” Chris blinked at him. 

 

Yuri perked up as well after his father’s words, twisting his body around in search until Viktor hummed, “Or I might just be mistaken, let’s go everyone!” 

 

Viktor received a kick to the shin. 

 

* * *

 

Lunch was simply beautiful and even Yuri had a great time inhaling his pasta while extremely careful not to stain his new fluffy cat companion. They had talked in English so Yuri wasn’t particularly in the loop but that didn’t stop him to pay attention when words like program, skating, jumps, or step sequence came up. The boy at one point had began humming one of Viktor’s old program songs and Chris had to stop the man from going Lion King on the poor boy. 

 

They were on the last few bites of a soft cheese cake they shared as dessert when Viktor suggested they go to the rink for a quick tour before they start on Monday. Everyone agreed when Yuri asked if Yuuri was going to be at the rink today, “No sweetie, the rink is mostly closed for repairs remember?” 

 

“Repairs?” 

 

“General maintenance really, it’s gonna get a good beating soon so the rink officials want it in perfect condition. We can still go in to have a look, although the ice is off limits.” 

 

Christophe had a look on his face when he asked the following, “And Yuuri?” Viktor was unamused at the implication but blushed anyway. 

 

“You know exactly who Yuuri is Chris.” 

 

“Ah, yes how could I forget when you call me at godforsaken hours to wax poetries about him.” 

 

Josef scoffed, looking at Viktor in accusation and added, “And when you call him, he calls  _ me _ to complain,” 

 

“Ooops?” 

 

* * *

 

Josef kindly paid for lunch and coffee to go (with hot chocolate for Yuri) as they make their way back to the hotel before driving the way to the rink. Yuri sat at the back with Chris while Josef at the front and although the start of the drive had the boy quiet in shyness, he quickly began chattering in broken English when Chris asked him about his favorite topic: Yuuri. Yuuri is nice, Yuuri cooks amazing food, Yuuri tells funny stories, Yuuri can dance really pretty, Yuuri is Yuri’s favorite teacher, “Yuuri also pretty!” 

 

“Oh I don’t doubt that sweetie, do we now Viktor?” Viktor can watch Chris giving him the knowing look and the Russian pouted, “You’re lucky I’m driving.” 

 

Josef decided to pity the man and directed conversation away from the other Yu(u)ri, so they spent the rest of the ride with Chris showing Yuri photos of his cat because apparently there is a strong conflicting opinion in the Nikiforov household. “But Yuratchka, what about Makkachin?” The boy took 3 seconds to think, “Makka is cute, but kitties are better!” That sent the Swiss skater into a fit of laughter, having to wipe a stray tear from his eye, “I guess getting you the cat plushie was the way to go then.” 

 

Viktor huffed as he pulled into the rink’s parking lot, pulling up underneath a tree shade to avoid the sun. Chris and Josef took in the view of the rink in front of them, the very rink skating legend trained in, as Viktor got Yuri out the children car seat. “Do you think I’ll absorb some of your talent if I get in there?” Chris had a serious thinking face as he regarded the building in front of him. Viktor gave him a light punch to the shoulder, “You’ve already got the talent and hardwork in, just focus on what you feel is your ice Chris.” His friend smiled at him, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

 

“Now, a tour of Yubileyny’s ice rink!” Yuri laughed excitedly at his father’s excitement and decided to lead the way to the entrance door. Viktor barely has time to tell the boy not to run so fast when the obvious thing happened. Viktor was gunning it to Yuri when he let out a surprised exclamation as he tripped on an unlevel path knowing he wasn’t going to make it but Yuri’s cry never came and in its stead a very excited reaction, “Yuuri!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAHOOOOOOOO Yuuri and co. is here!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They mingle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes another update! Sorry it's a bit late and thank you so much for your patience and support <3 
> 
> Some news to go through; I would be starting a job in about a week or so and might have a little time to write, but I had time to write a bit more so there would still be updates just maybe slightly slower than before. Or I might even be writing a bit more because I'm stressed and need some Victuuri tooth rotting stuff for myself, we'll see. I hope everyone would continue to be patient with lil' ol' me. 
> 
> Happy reading <3 <3 <3

Lunch passed and Phichit nagged at him wanting an ice cream cone, Yuuri was surprised Ciao Ciao even let him have it. “He’ll burn it off in no time with that energy,” he laughed when Yuuri looked at him in question and Phichit spent no time dragging him to the nearest convenience store. They’d spent an extra half hour looking for an obscure flavour he wanted, a cinnamon nutmeg  _ Morozhenoe _ , before spotting a similarly obscure shop front that sells the ice cream flavour. The shopkeeper lit up when Yuuri ordered for Phichit, adding chocolate shavings for  _ his friend who have good taste _ . 

 

“He said that?! Oh my god, Yuuri I have to take a photo for instagram.” So that’s also how the danseur find himself taking shots in every angle possible for his friend and a random shopkeep. Yuuri considers themselves lucky as their quest actually led them closer to their original destination and it was but a 15 minute busride. 

 

As they arrived at the rink’s stop, Ciao Ciao was suddenly curious, “Are we allowed inside? I thought you said it’s closed for the day Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri was showing his pass to the entrance gate security guard, “Oh, I asked Yakov for permission and he said it was alright as long as we don’t stay too long or bother the worker, so it should be fine.” Phichit whistled at his answer, “Damn Yuuri, you’ve got some real connections.” 

 

The danseur rolled his eyes and nudged his friend with his shoulder, “You’ve known this since the start, don’t pretend you didn’t know.” 

 

“Yuuu~ri! I’m just appreciating your magnificent influence as the best friend that I am.” Phichit had the gall to wink at him and laugh and even as Yuuri tried to be offended he found himself laughing along as they walked to the building entrance, Celestino just followed them like the watchful father he is. They were a good 10 feet away from the doors when voices came from the carpark on their right and Yuuri barely registered anything before he launched himself forwards to catch the small figure that was close to greeting the ground with their face. “Oh my god, are you okay?” Bright green eyes looked back at him and that familiar sweet voice went, “Yuuri!” 

 

The body mass that in return launched himself further into Yuuri’s arm was warm, smelled of talc and hot chocolate, “Yuri? Why- wha- what are you doing here?” The boy turned around in Yuuri’s hug to point at the group of people that were rushing to them, “Papa!” he simply said as explanation. 

 

“Yuratchka oh my god, don’t do tha- Yuuri?” 

 

Excited greeting from their own guest filtered into the air, ignoring the two men that are slightly gawking at each other in surprise. Viktor recovered first as he offered a hand to Yuuri was was still crouched on the floor with his son, his touch lingering to caress the back of Yuuri’s palm, it didn’t go unnoticed by the other skaters. “This is such a pleasant surprise! I didn’t know you’d be coming here with…uh…” The former skater motioned to the two men that came with Yuuri, “Coach Cialdini and Chulanont?” 

 

Both men waved their greeting and Phichit moved fast to bring his phone out for a quick selfie, effectively putting some space between the danseur and Viktor. Viktor the ever camera loving man immediately had a bright smile ready when Phichit raised the phone and told him to, “Say cheese!”  Even though his attention moved back to the two Yuri that are watching him with smiles. Yuri had his eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape at the Thai skater, he looked back on forth between the skater and his ballet teacher in disbelief. “Yuuri, Phi-chan is here!” 

 

“Yes Yura, I did say that didn’t I?” Yuuri had switched to Russian to speak with Yuri and had to translate when Phichit gave him a confused look. 

 

Then it was Phichit’s turn to gape, “Gasp! My beating heart, he knows about me?” He looked back at Yuuri with a hand over his heart, “You told him about me?” The danseur laughed and replied, “Obviously, you’re  _ my _ skater boy.” Viktor watched on with confusion. 

 

“Phi-chan! Can photo with papa?” Phichit stumbled backwards, feeling faint from the clear adoration in the young boy’s eyes. “You can tell me to give you the world and I would, I’m calling dibs on godfather.” There was fierce determination in the Thai’s eyes, ready to challenge any and every opposition while Yuuri and Viktor’s face lit up at the (not so) quiet implication, Yuuri’s more so than Viktor’s. 

 

The Russian man cleared his throat and called his son over, “Come here  _ zvezdochka _ , let’s get you photo,” Yuri left the danseur’s side willingly and hopped onto Viktor’s hold instead. Yuuri notices from one side of his eyes that the two coaches are having a time in their own discussion, making him miss the approach that came from his other side. He held back a yelp as a warm palm attached itself to his buttocks with a pleasing smack, a warm body with breezy fragrance leaning close into his personal space, “Oh Yuuri  _ mon cher _ , I’ve missed you.” The voice that followed was the warm velvety seduction that Yuuri associates with pole and dance. 

 

“C- Chris, you still haven’t changed have you.” 

 

“You know I’d never, it’s been so lonely ever since you moved to St. Petersburg! I needed my yearly dose of Katsuki Yuuri, danseur extraordinaire, you weren’t at any of the competitions I’m in last season.” Chris pouted and whined as his hand continued to pat Yuuri’s ass, rubbing his face into the danseur’s soft black hair. Yuuri laughed brightly and decided to amuse Chris by patting his back in return, “Did I make you into a mess Chris?” 

 

“Yes you did lapinou, you did.” 

 

Unbeknown of the two intimately involved men, Viktor, Yuri, and Phichit had finished their photo session and the Russian man was staring at both of them in a shocked state. Phichit pointed the camera to him and took several shots, “You poor thing Chris, at least I was at Rostelecom last season and Yuuri made me katsudon!” 

 

Viktor snapped his head around to stare at the Thai. 

 

“Sorry, it’s been a busy year for the Bolshoi and I would feel bad if I had to take time off for the competitions,” Phichit points the camera at Chris and Yuuri next with orders to smile. Yuri who was still in the arms of his catatonic father began wriggling to be let down, “Papa, down now.” Viktor slowly lowered the boy down and Yuri easily slipped away from him, running towards Yuuri and tugged on the danseur’s sleeves. “Yuuri, papa is acting weird.” he whispered. 

 

That got Yuuri’s attention and he finally looked over at the said man, “Viktor?” He tilted his head in question, “Are you alright?” 

 

Viktor had began to gasp like a fish out of water, face red in an emotion he cannot yet explain, as one of his hands motioned to where Chris and Yuuri is standing, so Yuuri began looking up and down himself and Chris and their surrounding in confusion. “I- is anything wrong? I don’t see anything weird?” Seeing how his friend might need help, Chris offered, “Viktor, you might want to use words next.” 

 

The Russian man flailed in a way his own son began questioning his father’s sanity while Phichit’s phone camera is still rolling, “How! Do! You! Knoweachother?!” His sudden outburst made Yuuri jump before realization kicked in, “Oh, I met Chris a few years ago when I accompanied Phichit to his competitions, and we became friends. I suppose?” He looked at Chris, who is oddly still closely attached to himself in confirmation, and the Swiss patted Yuuri’s ass one more time in emphasis, “Yes we did  _ mon cher _ , never doubt it.” 

 

Viktor choked on a mix of spit and air, “Then- Chris you- all text?” 

 

“And all calls. Absolutely  _ mon ami _ .” 

 

A finger rose from the living legend to point accusingly at his friend, “This is a betrayal!” 

 

Yuri frowned and tsk-ed like his paternal grandmother, “Papa, finger pointing is rude.” 

 

“But Yuraaa~ Chris is-” The rest of them (Ciao Ciao, Josef, and Yuuri) watched on in confusion as a 4 year old gave a 27 year old a lecture. Meanwhile Phichit had to hold a fist against his mouth to keep ugly laughter from spilling over, his face flushed red from his effort and body shaking to keep everything in - Chris on the other hand is looking very smug. 

 

The video of Russian Living Legend, Viktor Alexandrovich Nikiforov, sounding like a dying whale will forever be in Unofficially Crowned Thai Prince, Phichit Chulanont’s, phone and all 20 backup drive. 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Morozhenoe according to a few travel blog is a traditional Russian ice cream that is usually in vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry flavour, but if I’m wrong hit me with a comment and I’ll try and change it!
> 
> Also, no offense to any Thai readers, I just think Phichit is very precious and deserve an honorary royal title in this universe <3
> 
> Come chat w me whenever, thanks for your kudos and comments, and remember I love all of ye!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor chokes a lot here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! First I gotta say thank you so much for sticking with me so far and still giving me lots of love and I’m sorry I haven’t been able to reply to your previous comments. As I mentioned before I have just started my job and it’s my first week so I’ve just been trying to adjust and get used to my new schedule. Because of this my updates might get a bit sporadic (more than it already is :P) but give me a bit more time to readjust and I’ll bring you more Viktuuri goodies. 
> 
> Now, I’m not fairly satisfied with this chapter because I didn’t have time to go over it and just wanted you lovelies something as a thank you. Won’t keep you any longer and enjoy!

Ice rinks are generally chilled, cold temperature is necessary to maintain the integrity of the ice, but today it’s an understatement to say it’s more chilled than usual. Viktor had chosen to sulk at the back of the group while, oddly, Yuuri took charge in showing them around the building, his high and clear voice drifting in the air, comforting to Viktor’s wounded pride and heart. He jolted in shock as Celestino’s heavy hands slapped his back in encouragement, “Oh don’t feel so down! You had no reason to notice Yuuri all those years anyway, no need to be so hard on yourself!” 

 

Instead, Viktor winced. _All those_ _years_ he had the chance to meet Yuuri, _all those_ _years_ he had the opportunity to have Yuuri in his life,   _all those years_ he stupidly stuck to his own head and missed the thousands of opportunities to- and he was so close! So close he was even familiar with _Chris_ while unknown to _him_. At his face, the Italian man patted his back apologetically, “I’m not helping am I?” 

 

“How could I, Celestino,” his voice muffled by his hands that covered his face in shame, “How  _ could _ I not notice him before? That shining, blinding, beautiful Yuuri,  _ how _ ?” 

 

Celestino merely shrugged, “Yuuri does have a thing where you won’t notice him unless he wants you to. He’s a shy boy Viktor.” The Russian man simply groaned and stared at the back of Chris’s head, who is still standing too close to the Japanese danseur, then he blinked once, then twice, and his sight zoomed in to Phichit and Yuuri’s joined hand. He whipped his head to silent scream at the Italian coach and the man simply said, “That’s normal.”  

 

They had just reached the second rink, where the maintenance had finished, so they were free to roam around that area before moving on and one of the staff was on the zamboni and waved a quick hello to Yuuri and Viktor. Viktor was satisfied to just sulk at the back of the group again when a shadow fell over his sight of the rubbered floor, “Viktor? Are you feeling ok?” 

 

Yuuri’s soft features slid into his vision, worry in his face as he placed a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. Viktor’s eyes lit up automatically and he beamed at Yuuri, spreading his arms in an obvious offer while crooning the other man’s name. “Oh, now?”  There was embarrassment in his voice, but Yuuri surprisingly didn’t hesitate to move into the invitation when Viktor nodded in excitement. The Russian buried his nose into the soft black locks and breathes as his arms locked around the danseur tightly. It’s amazing, he thinks, how much one can change from one event. Viktor understands Yuuri had never been fond of physical touches - or never used to it now that he thinks about it - but these last few weeks the Japanese beauty had opened up a privilege he has only seen him give to Yura, and that is physical affection. Yuuri had extended that privilege to him, either to receive or give, little by little after their talk at the park and even till this day Viktor couldn’t imagine what he had done to be given the right to have Katsuki Yuuri in his arms. 

 

Yuuri hummed in their embrace, the action resonating against Viktor’s collarbones and chills ran down his spine while the younger man remained oblivious and patted his arm to release him, so Viktor reluctantly did. “Are you feeling alright?” Yuuri asked again. Deep brandy looking into icy winter blue and the sincerity making Viktor want to spill every thought but even as he opened his mouth a small blur of blonde ran towards them and attached himself to Yuuri’s chest, wedging a barrier between him and the danseur, “Aww Yura, that’s not fair, I want to hug Yuuri too~” 

 

Yuri swung his head around to his father and pouted, “But papa hugged already, now is Yura’s turn.” Yuuri laughed at the impromptu staring competition in front of him, these two crazy Russians could make his day anytime. From the corner of the his eyes Yuuri saw Phichit motioning towards them and he could hear him call for, “Yurio!” 

 

Yuri scrunched his little nose at the nickname but shrugged it off because it was Phichit, the danseur nudged him in encouragement and so Yuri jogged his little way over to where the Thai and Swiss skaters are. Viktor found himself staring at Yuuri, the little smile he always have for Yuri and how at ease he is in Viktor’s element - well, Yuuri’s too now really - and he unconsciously reached a hand out to cup the Japanese’s cheek. “I can’t believe I missed the thousand chances I had to meet you all those years ago.” 

 

With a tilted head, Yuuri regarded Viktor in confusion before understanding settled in, “Oh,” he breathed and smiled, “Sorry, I- I didn’t have the confidence to say hello.” 

 

“It’s not your fault, it’s  _ mine _ , it’s practically a sin to not notice you and I’ve committed the highest treason!” Viktor shoved his face to his palms and groaned, wishing for time to rewind and let him not make a fool of himself. Yuuri called his name tentatively and he looked up and saw a focused view of Yuuri’s smiling face, “It is a shame we didn’t meet until recently, but we can compensate by knowing each other for years to come?” 

 

_ Oh heck yes, I’ll make you come for yea-  _

 

“Ye-Yes! Absolutely! Silly me, yes, more years to c-” Red exploded on the former Russian champion’s face and no foundation in the world can hide it, his face is just nothing less of a really bright siren that even Chris notices from the other side of the room, “I mean, yes, if you let me, more years to come.” If Yuuri noticed the redness on Viktor’s face, he didn’t let it show and just smiled brightly at him, “Good, that’s the way to go.” 

 

“Yuuri, come here for a minute, I forgot to pass you a message!” Celestino called over with his phone in his hand. “Coming Ciao Ciao”! Yuuri excused himself and went to the Italian coach, leaving Viktor to look at his retreating back in complete silence.  

 

Now, here’s the thing, Viktor is an adult and has had his share of experiments and knows his stuff. But he didn’t expect to develop a praise kink  _ now _ . Like, was that even a praise? Does it count as a praise in general sense? Yeah, it sort of does, but a kink though? Wait, let’s think this through- 

 

“Viktor.” 

 

He looked up and found Phichit looking at him with all knowing eyes and a shit eating grin. The Thai skater pats his shoulder comfortingly and somehow fished Viktor’s phone out from thin air. Both their phones pinged with notification and then Phichit handed the device back to him, “It’s okay, I know.” He remarked simply. 

 

There was a rumour in the skating community that Phichit Chulanont is secretly a psychic. Viktor doesn’t know what to believe. 

 

He looked down at his previously kidnapped phone and apparently Phichit had sent him a picture. Out of curiosity he opened the photo app and almost dropped his phone. There on his bright screen is an equally bright Yuuri in crop top and shorts, sitting cross legged on a wooden floor, sweaty and tired but beaming at the camera with a million watt smile, a thumbs up, and a water bottle between his teeths. Oh but no, it doesn’t stop there. It never does. Viktor has never seen Yuuri wink and now he has. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 Thank for reading my lovelies! Stay cool <3


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue the shenanigans while you probably want to read the long A/N.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM BOTH ALIVE AND DEAD. MY DEEPEST SINCEREST APOLOGIES AND GRATITUDE FOR ALL MY READERS THAT HAVE FAITHFULLY BEEN WAITING FOR AN UPDATE BECAUSE I AM NOTHING BUT A GIGANTIC SHITE OF A WRITER BUT IM ALSO DROWNING IN MY JOB AND MOST OF MY FREE TIME IS USED TO SLEEP AND RECHARGE MY HUMAN INTERACTION METER. I AM ALSO IN MASSIVE STRESS OF NEEDING TO APPLY FOR ANOTHER JOB BECAUSE I WAS ON CONTRACT AND HAVE NO JOB SECURITY WHATSOEVER SO MY ANXIETY HAS BEEN PARTYING IN MY HEAD LIKE A MOTHERFUCK- 
> 
> I really want to type more in caps but I think most of you might be sick of it by now, so... yeah. Quite a lot has happened between now and the last time I updated and it is partly my fault and I really appreciate all of you who sent kind comments and support for me, a silly silly person. I decided to do a quick update to inform you guys that my heart lies deep with this story and I want to get to the end without rushing the story - the plans I have for this is long but with the situation where not a lot is stable at the moment I need to focus on some other stuff first. 
> 
> I also plan to get a beta sometime in the future to chuck a stone at my head from time to time but again, nothing is set in stone yet. When I'm ready I will ask for your kind assistance :)

Saying Viktor was broken for the rest of the day was an understatement, but after Yuri sleepily made his way to his father the Russian man lifted the boy up with a coo. Yuuri tailed after his student and stroked Yuri’s back comfortingly as he fell asleep in his father’s arms, “I think someone went past his own nap time,” he smiled, “Why don’t you bring him home? I can get the others back to their hotel easily or take them around town a bit more.” 

 

Viktor found it incredibly endearing, watching Yuri snoring softly on his chest while Yuuri looked over his son with a soft expression. “Viktor?” 

 

“Ah, yes. That’ll be great, thank you. I hope it’s not too much a bother.” 

 

Yuuri waved him off, “They’re my friend too Viktor, don’t worry about it.” 

 

So they parted ways, Yuuri leading the guests to the metro and Viktor buckling Yuri into his to seat as softly as possible and drove back home. He had only just closed the door to his apartment with the slightest click, juggling the keys and son in his arms while keeping Makkachin as quiet as possible when his phone beeped and buzzed in his pocket. 

 

He quickly took off Yuri’s jacket and shoes and tucked him in his bed, the poodle leaping up to the mattress and settled next to her younger master with a content huff. Viktor pats the dog’s head and left the room with the door slightly ajar, reaching for his phone. A chat from Chris?

  
  


_ chrisbutt  _

[image attachment]

*wink wink*

 

Viktor took a long look at the picture and then typed his response furiously before hitting send. 

 

_ you _

Don’t do this to me chris

 

_ chrisbutt _

☆～（ゝ。∂）

 

_ you _

n o

 

_ chrisbutt _

Lounging at the hotel now, he  _ really _ likes hot chocolate

 

_ you _

Asdhgjfa;sdflhfslfhdlk

Give me more

 

_ chrisbutt _

hmmmmmmmm should i? 

 

_ you _

Chhhrrrissssssssssss

 

_ chrisbutt _

[image attachment] 

  * ### ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

  * _you_
  * why. are. you. touching. his. LIPS.



 

_ chrisbutt _

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Viktor slammed his face into the sofa cushion to muffle his scream when a notification arrived with a buzz. 

 

_ chrisbutt _

Heading over to Phichit’s room now, i think we’re having a nap-over ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

_ you _

W H A T

 

His eyes were beginning to burn from staring at the screen for so long, fingers tabbing in and out of the chat app to make sure it’s refreshed every few seconds but to no reply. Viktor was ready to reach for the liquor cabinet when his phone finally (finally!) buzzed again. 

 

_ chrisbutt _

[image attachment]

Enjoy ~ 

 

If he needs a picture for a certain danseur’s shrine, this is it. This is it. Ignoring the burn of jealousy at the back of his mind, Viktor stared at the picture - as he did all previous ones - soft natural light filtering into the hotel room through the curtains and Yuuri lays against the headboard of the bed. His head leaning onto Phichit’s shoulder and his face snuggled into the Thai’s one handed hug. One other thing he ignored is Chris’ smug face on a corner of the picture. His fingers hit save on the photo before a random cosmic force wills for the image to disappear and slumped straight onto his sofa. 

 

Viktor couldn’t help it as he wriggled like a dying worm with his frustration, he wants to be that close to Yuuri. For him to be so comfortable, he can fall asleep with ease. He wants to card his hand through Yuuri’s thick black hair, smoother than silk. He wants to listen to his heartbeat, thrumming softly against his skin. He wants to feel the heat from their bodies, mingled together to a perfect warmth. He wants to see those brilliant brown eyes blink sleepily at him as he wakes up, offering a smile with a huff of breath near Viktor’s neck, the sweetest greeting in the morning, afternoon, or night. 

 

In the middle of his self-suffering moaning, his phone lit up with a notification on Instagram from Phichit. 

  
  


**phichit+chu**

_ St. Petersburg _

 

_ (picture of Yuuri asleep, snuggled on Phichit’s shoulder while he kisses Yuuri’s head) _

 

53 likes

**phichit+chu** _Having my best friend back in my arms again. Best feeling ever! @katsukidon #bffs #bros #jealous #? #( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_

 

Just let the world swallow him already. 

 

\------------------------------------

 

Ciao Ciao and Coach Josef had gone on their responsible adult afternoon bar hop adventure while the young men went back to the hotel, stopping by for some warm beverages at the hotel cafe. Yuuri had allowed himself a few sips from Phichit’s hot chocolate, mindful of his diet, humming in appreciation of the sweet cacao flavour and creaminess of the milk and the marshmallow. He blinked questioningly when he saw Phichit hiding a laugh, then at Chris who had a smug face on, “Umm, what?” 

 

“Enjoying the drink Yuuri?” 

 

The danseur refuses to blush at Chris’ teasing tone, as the Swiss man wiped a line of milk foam from the side of Yuuri’s lips, his phone poised suspiciously. Instead, he huffed and took another sip of the drink and continued his sugary appreciation before returning it to Phichit, “So is there anything you want to do today? We can go have a look around the city if you want.” 

 

“I’d love to, but I’m feeling kind of tired, the lag might have caught up.” Phichit nodded to Chris’ comment, “Same man, why don’t we just hang out in the room with some movies!” Both looked over to Yuuri and he shrugged, “It’s your day you want to spend, I’m all yours.” 

 

After buying some snacks from the overpriced convenience store opposite the hotel, they made their way to Phichit’s room and each found their comfortable place either on the bed or the single armchair. The Thai skater winked at the both of them as he pulled out an HDMI cable and plugged his laptop to the hotel’s TV, movie up and running in less than 5 minutes. They had pre-packed popcorn in what Chris calls a magical origami square bowl that Yuuri made from the complimentary hotel letter sheets, they’ve set it on Yuuri’s laps because he was in the middle and their quiet chewing accompanied the explosions from the action movie Phichit had chosen. 

 

Chris was startled when some of the popcorn spilled to the side but caught the container in time as it slipped from the danseur’s hand. He motioned for Phichit and they both stared in awe as Yuuri just slept, breathing softly against the headboard, his expression calm and smooth like there was not a single wrong in the world. After a minute of being watched, Yuuri stirred and snuggled into Phichit and he let him while putting an arm around him to make it more comfortable to the Japanese beauty. 

  
  


“Shit Chris, pass me my phone asap!” The Swiss rushed to do so as Phichit hissed, pulling out his own phone in the meantime and opening the camera app in a flurry of silent movements. Yuuri stayed completely still as they had their fill on sleeping!Yuuri content, each exchanging good angled photos and continued to watch the movie with the volume turned down. They both ended asleep just as the credits rolled. 

 

They all woke up half an hour later to exploding notifications. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I didn't mention it - I love all you of you <3


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor has never been more left out in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi?   
> Hello?   
> I? Am? Not? Dead?   
> Well, I won't be dead if you guys don't kill me. 
> 
> Lord please don't tell anyone I've been writing fanfiction at work. I mean and beg a literal PLEASE.

The sun had barely risen for a few minutes, and Yuri had woken up bright and early in the morning and jumped on Viktor’s bed with no remorse or pity for the same man that sleep had refused to visit till early in the morning. Their resident poodle was of no help either as Makkachin leaped onto both of them the next second, “Papa, wake up! Training, training!” 

 

“Yura, zvezdochka, please….” 

 

“But papa, we can see Yuuri again today! And Phi and Uncle Kitty!” 

 

He groaned, dragging a large section of the blanket over his head but a giant poodle dragged it back off him, “Makka, you traitor.” 

 

There was a little ding next to his head and his phone lit up with a notification from Chris with a cryptic oh I can’t wait for you to go through today. Viktor really hates the cheeky wink face that followed that message. He thought about responding with a snarky reply, but Yuri made his hunger known and Viktor relented, “Yes, yes, alright. How does toast sound?” 

 

“I want nutella and peanut butter!” 

 

It took no longer than five minutes for Viktor to do his morning routine - leaving his facial routine for later - while Yuri accompanied his father. He told him the dilemma of how he wanted the toast to have tiger stripes like how babushka made them but he wanted more nutella than peanut butter but then the stripes wouldn’t be nice and tiger-y. It is a problem, Viktor agreed. “Why don’t we call babushka later and ask what to do,” Yuri nodded to that suggestion and grabbed onto Viktor’s sweatpants as he left the bathroom. The man chuckled to himself and decided it better not to mention it lest Yuri gets embarrassed. 

  
  


Without eventually calling Viktor’s mother about the stripes dilemma, Yuri decided to have one toast with more nutella and one with proper tiger-y stripes. Viktor took a long sip of his coffee and poured orange juice for Yuri when his phone ding with notification again. The Russian’s eyes lit up when Yuuri’s name came with a message. 

 

[ Yuuuuuri <3 <3 <3 ] 

Viktor! I hope I didn’t wake you up but I’ve made lunch plans with Phichit and Chris later at the rink and I was wondering if Yura and you would like to join us? It’s nothing more than sandwiches though…  

 

[ You ]

Yuuri <3 <3 <3 Of course we’ll join you for lunch! Yura will be so happy <3

 

[ Yuuri <3 <3 <3 ] 

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ It’s nothing much. 

 

He was just about to type in his own reply when another text from Yuuri came in. 

 

[ Yuuri <3 <3 <3 ]

It’s weird, i mean it’s only been a day but I miss you and Yura already. I look forward for today ヾ( 〃ω〃)ｯ **.**

 

Viktor put his phone down, screen facing the breakfast bar. He took a long breath with his body hunched into himself before Yuri can notice something wrong, but it’s not as if it’s something easy to hide. At the boy’s inquisitive, “Papa?” Viktor’s body gave in on himself and melted to coat half the breakfast bar and his hands in grabby motion. In the Nikiforov family, this was an average scene, but never this early in the morning before so Yuri waited for stage two. 

 

“Yuuuuuura! I can’t take it anymore! This. Is. Too. Much.” 

 

“Papa you making nonsense.” 

 

As his father continues to flop uselessly on the table surface, Yuri finished his toast, placed the dirty plate in the sink by stepping on a stool by the sink, and kicked Viktor in the shin. Viktor’s loud yelp brought Makkachin around to fuss and lick at the man’s face comfortingly while he continued to rub his leg. “Yura, we really need to talk about your violence methods.” 

 

Viktor, despite still in mild pain, watched in amusement as Yuri huffed pulled him to his room to help him change. After giving Yuri a quick shower and taking one himself, he was given the honored task. “Papa can choose cheetah or leopard,” Yuri announced while pointing at the bursting wardrobe - courtesy of Aunt Mila - Viktor chose the leopard print and helped Yuri change and felt like he passed a test or another as his son nodded proudly at him. Yuri pointed at a soft pink button down shirt and a pair of blue jeans for him to wear, Viktor shrugged and put it on. 

 

Yakov had surprisingly allowed him to bring Makkachin along today, but considering the long hours at the rink and it wasn’t that nice asking Tanya to take the pup this early on a Sunday, it was for the best. “Yuratchka, can you put on your shoes and papa will get Makka ready?” Yuri nodded and ran to the front door while he took Makkachin’s leash and some dog snack for the day. “Yura, are you bringing Mishka with you today?” 

 

Yuri’s head perked up from tying his shoe lace and gave a loud confirmation, so Viktor tucked the cat plushie from Chris in the small backpack the boy always has with him, grabbed a few snack bars and sliced apple portions from the kitchen, and they headed out. His son opted to hold his hand instead of Makka’s leash on the way down, which made Viktor grin like a madman as they made their way to the car. Makka sat next to Yuri on his child car seat, both nudging each other playfully and Viktor glanced at them with a smile as he pulled into the morning traffic. The sun had already risen just above the horizon, and golden rays of light shone onto the scenery as they drive by. Cheery pop music plays on the morning radio and Viktor tapped his fingers on the driving wheel along with the beat, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. 

 

“Papa, when is Yuuri coming?” 

 

“Hmm? I’m not sure, let me ask him when we get to the rink okay?” 

 

“Can I call him, papa?” 

 

“Only if you sing me a song!” He lifted his eyes off the road to peer at Yuri from the rearview mirror to find the boy scowling at him. “That’s cheatie papa.” 

 

“But I want my Yuratchka to sing for me~ Pleaaaaase? I’ll let you call Yuuri if you do baby boy.” 

 

Yuri grumbled at him but reluctantly sang a nursery rhyme that Nikolai taught him. 

 

_ A clumsy little bear was walking through the forest  _

 

_ He was gathering pinecones and singing songs _

 

_ A pinecone fell directly onto his forehead _

 

_ The little bear got angry and stamped his foot _

 

Makkachin has followed in the song and barked at the end of every verse and Yuri was a giggling mess when he finished the rhyme, “Papa, Makka is a good doggie singer.” 

 

“She is isn’t she? Do you want to sing with Makka again later when we have lunch with Yuuri?” 

 

“We’re having lunch with Yuuri?!” Yuri leaned forward in excitement and whooped when Viktor affirmed it. As if sensing the excited air in the car, the poodle boofed along with Yuri’s laughter and before long they arrive at the rink. There was a small buzz of life from the moment they pulled into the carpark as several other people had also arrived for the first day of training. 

 

Yuri could barely contain his excitement as he wriggled his way impatiently from the car when Viktor came to get him out, Makkachin leapt out after the boy and they walked to the entrance in no time, what with Yuri pulling his father all the way. One of the rink employee greeted them when they came through the door and met the first few of their international guests. 

 

“Good morning Michele, Sara!” 

 

The older Crispino looked over at him and scowled while Sara waved him over with a smile, “Morning Viktor, It’s been so long! And  _ oooooooooh _ is this your son? He’s so cute.” The beautiful Italian offered her hand to Yuri as they walked closer, “My name is Sara, what’s yours?” 

 

The child looked up, unsure, but Viktor squeezed his hand in encouragement and gave him a smile. Sara’s smile brightened as his smaller hand took hers in a shake, “I’m Yuri. Papa and  _ dedushka _ call me Yuratchka but you can call me ummm…” He looked back up at his father for help only for Viktor to chuckle. Yuri found himself up in Viktor’s arms and hid his face in the crook of his papa’s neck. “Just call him Yura, it might be confusing later otherwise.” 

 

“Stop being so chummy with my sister, Nikiforov!” 

 

The Russian man just laughed and waved them in, “Let’s get you to change, the locker room is just around further ahead.” 

 

Sara smacked her twin’s arm and they made their way to the locker rooms, chatting along the way. “We’re heading to Yakov’s office first, I’ll see you guys again at the rink.” He let Yuri wave them a small good bye and turned around the corner for the Russian coach’s office. Makkachin scratched the door and it was opened with a small squeak to… Lilia? 

 

“Lilia!” Small hands made grabby motion at the woman and the previous stoic demeanor softened just a tiny bit and opened her hands. “Good morning Yuratchka, you had breakfast?” 

 

“Papa made me tigers!” 

 

Viktor whispered a quick  _ Toast! He meant I made him tiger toast! _ when a confused look was shot at him. Lilia still raised an eyebrow at him but finally moved to the side so Viktor could go in, “Yakov has the day’s schedule for you, he’s just out to grab some coffee.” 

 

He dropped Yuri’s backpack on the small couch in the room and picked up the morning news until something caught his eyes and he raised his head to meet a pair of very familiar brown eyes. His son beat him to it though.

 

“Yuuri!” 

 

“Morning Yura, Viktor.” The Japanese man smiled at them shyly and his instructor let the the excitable boy down who ran directly to the man. “I- wh- you’re here early!” 

 

Yuuri had lifted his student to his hips and regarded Viktor with a smile, “I’m helping half the skaters with flexibility training while they’re off the ice, so I guess I’ll be here the whole day.” 

 

“I- wha- Yakov didn’t tell me!” 

 

The danseur and his son shared a small laugh with how surprised Viktor was. Despite being laughed at, the man found it to be music to his ears and it’s as if the heavens have decided to bless him, doves and halo appeared in his vision surrounding the two beautiful people in front of him. 

 

The moment was slightly broken as Lilia took a seat suddenly on the other end of the sofa and startling him, but there’s still lingering mental doves perched on the danseur’s shoulder as if saying  _ he’s the one _ . “That’s great. You can come and watch us skate, or even skate with us! What do you say Yuratchka?” 

 

“ _ Yuuri _ skate with us please?” 

 

The raven haired man laughed and easily agreed, “That’s fine by me. But only when the ice is free.” Both Nikiforov pumped their hand in celebration when the door opened loudly, “Vitya, Yura, you’re here.” 

 

“Yakov! No coffee for me?” 

 

“You don’t need any caffeine in your blood, you’re already hyper enough.” 

 

“Aww booo. Come on Yura, boo with me.” The boy wisely stared at his father, “That’s rude papa.” 

 

Yakov handed one of the three coffee he brought to Yuuri and Lilia, receiving gratitudes, before sipping his own as he sank to his seat by the desk, he pulled out a printed sheet and waved it at Viktor. “That’s the schedule for today, get changed and go out to the rink. Yura can go with you.” 

 

Yuri looked conflicted for a while before Yuuri patted his hand, “It’s okay, you can go with your papa first and then come visit me when you’re bored. Okay?” The boy considered and nodded.

 

“We should head out then,” Viktor stood up and took Yuri’s bag with him, “I’ll get changed and head to the rink. Are you com-” A stunted cough, “Are you coming with us Yuuri?” The danseur agreed and lifted his black duffel bag with him, a big and curly font in  _ bright _ pink embroidery that says  _ World’s Tastiest Katsudon is Me _ \- there was surprisingly a cyrillic version below it. 

 

Yuuri noticed his stare and rubbed his neck sheepishly, “Phichit gave it to me yesterday and insisted I use it today.” 

 

“I for one, am not against it.” Viktor remembered to use his lipbalm today,  _ of course he did, it would be a sin to forget, _ but his lips are dry and he doesn’t want it to wet it with his tongue and risk looking like a pervert. He swears he didn’t do it, but Yuuri was a blooming blush anyway. “Thank you?” The other man offered. 

 

The mildly sane person in the room, a four year old, dragged both adult out the door and to where they’re supposed to go, grumbling about how they’re both embarrassing. “Are you doing ballet for the flexibility training?” 

 

“Oh, um yeah, and… uh others.” 

 

“Others.” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Like….” 

 

“Lilia suggested uh… pole dancing.” 

 

Viktor’s brain cogs are working. Slowly. 

 

_ Oh I can’t wait for you to go through today _

 

**_Oh I can’t wait for you to go through today_ **

 

The only sentence repeating in his head is:  _Chris I hate you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not dead?

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://noitratoxin.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> I love kudos and comments, and if y'all need a push on your stories I am very available.


End file.
